THE    LODESTAR 


SHE    8AT    LOOKING    .     .    .    WITH    FAR-AWAY    EYES.' 


THE     LODESTAR 


BY 

SIDNEY   R.   KENNEDY 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON:  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LTD. 
1905 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1905, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.    Published  March,  1905. 


Nortoooft  $rcss 

J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


f&otfjer 


2228352 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  She  sat  looking  .  .  .  with  far-away  eyes  "   Frontispiece 


FACING   PACK 


"  '  Now,  /call  that  really  decorative  '  "         .  54 

"  Determined  on  complete  frankness  "          .         .116 

"  '  If  he  was  drunk,  I  think  you  might  just  as 

well  say  so  ' ' 164 

"  '  Say,  Alice,  ...  I  want  you  to  marry  me  '  "       .     224 
"  '  You  might  ask  him  '" 278 


THE  LODESTAR 


ABOUT  three  miles  west  of  Burnhara  the  road  to 
Perkins  Mills  turns  abruptly  to  the  right.  It  leads 
straight  up  a  long,  gradual  hill  and  tops  a  ragged, 
rocky  ridge,  and  then  curves  sharply  westward 
again  around  the  upper  end  of  Darius  Hyde's 
place.  On  either  side  of  the  road  runs  a  sturdy 
wall  made  of  stones  neatly  piled  up  after  the 
usual  manner  of  New  England.  On  the  right- 
hand  side  of  the  road  at  the  lower  corner  there 
is  a  break  in  the  wall,  closed  by  a  set  of  four 
rudely  trimmed  bars  set  into  rough-hewn  posts. 
This  is  the  entrance  to  the  pasture  lot,  a  big,  slop- 
ing field,  irregularly  studded  with  gray  boulders 
and  its  thin  soil  covered  with  close-cropped  grass 
and  patches  of  huckleberry  bushes ;  it  reaches 
clear  to  the  top  of  a  high,  steepish  hill.  On  the 
left  side,  just  where  the  wagon  road  turns,  the 
wall  is  pierced  by  the  approach  to  Darius  Hyde's 


2  THE   LODESTAR 

place.  As  you  go  down  through  the  maples  that 
back  the  inverge  you  come  quite  suddenly  upon 
a  wooden  bridge  spanning  a  clear,  cold  brook, 
which  sings  its  way  cheerfully  through  overhang- 
ing willow  trees  and  into  the  leveller  fields.  Then, 
after  you  have  crossed  the  brook,  you  continue 
along  a  narrow,  fern-lined  way  through  a  walled 
orchard  of  gnarled  apple  trees  and  up  a  gentle 
slope  again,  and  then  across  a  grassy  yard  you 
see  the  low,  white,  green-shuttered  old  house,  set 
back  against  the  hill  in  a  clump  of  hickories  and 
majestic  elms  that  swing  their  branches  over  its 
shelving,  shingled  roof,  which  runs  down  in  the 
rear  to  form  a  long  woodshed,  around  which  many 
lilac  bushes  grow.  Off  on  a  knoll  near  by  stands 
the  big  red  barn  in  front  of  the  muddy  barnyard 
with  its  high  railed  fence,  and  the  other  trim  out- 
buildings. The  cultivated  portion  of  the  farm 
stretches  to  the  southward,  and  off  behind  is  a 
single  field,  and  then  a  swampy  piece  enclosed  by 
a  snake  fence,  and  then  the  great  wood  lot. 

One  sunshiny  spring  day,  when  the  tender  pink 
apple  blossoms  were  fading  a  milky  white  and 
their  petals  were  commencing  to  drift  through  the 
branches,  which  stirred  in  the  gentle  west  wind, 
and  to  checker  snowily  the  brown  earth,  a  horse 
and  buggy  paused  before  the  entrance  to  Darius 


THE   LODESTAR  3 

Hyde's  place.  The  horse  was  a  lofty,  yellow  ani- 
mal of  Gothic  conformation,  with  obtrusive  ribs 
and  knees,  and  a  large,  mild  eye.  Under  pressure 
his  customary  gait  was  a  hesitating  shamble,  but 
on  the  major  part  of  this  journey  he  had  melted 
into  a  slow  walk,  in  which  each  foot  was  deliber- 
ately and  distinctly  set  down  before  the  next  one 
was  lifted.  This  conservative  rate  of  progress 
was  accepted  cheerfully  enough  by  the  two  young 
men  who  occupied  the  vehicle,  but  their  asperity 
was  moved  toward  the  shiftless  liveryman  who 
had  neglected  to  grease  the  axles.  For  the  off 
hind  wheel  had  developed  a  most  virulent  case  of 
hot  box  and  the  off  front  wheel  was  threatening  to 
succumb  to  the  same  malady.  At  the  turn  of  the 
road  the  driver  pulled  the  yellow  horse  to  a  stop 
—  no  vast  exertion  was  employed  —  and  addressed 
his  companion. 

"We'll  never  get  back  to  Burnham,  Ollie,  at 
this  rate,"  said  he.  "That  wheel's  going  harder 
all  the  time." 

His  apprehension  did  not  trouble  Oliver  Burgess 
overmuch.  The  air  was  balmy  and  the  sky  was 
bright. 

"Why  don't  you  unhitch  the  horse  from  the 
buggy,"  he  suggested  hopefully,  "  and  ride  him 
into  town?  I  dare  say  you  could  get  another 


4  THE   LODESTAR 

horse  and  buggy  there,  and  you  could  just  tell  the 
man  where  you  had  left  this  one,  and  come  and 
take  me  off.  I  don't  mind  a  bit  waiting  here  for 
you."  He  stretched  himself  lazily. 

Hamilton  King  regarded  his  animal  with 
thoughtful  and  deep  disapproval.  The  picture 
of  himself  riding  this  gaunt,  yellow  beast  into 
Burnham,  his  legs  dangling  lankily  down  its  bony 
sides,  with  only  a  frayed  lap-robe  for  a  saddle  and 
no  other  equipment  than  the  battered  driving 
harness,  was  not  in  the  least  to  his  fancy. 

"  Don't  mind  me,  old  man,"  his  companion  con- 
tinued pleasantly.  "  I'll  enjoy  sitting  here.  Ship- 
wrecked mariner  on  a  comfortable  reef  waiting  for 
succor.  Perhaps  some  one  will  come  along  before 
you  get  back,  and  give  me  a  lift  into  town.  Per- 
haps I'll  go  to  sleep.  Perhaps  you've  got  some- 
thing to  read  —  you  fellows  that  write  almost 
always  have  a  pocket  edition  of  something  or  other 
in  your  clothes.  Go  ahead,  now  —  it  won't  take 
you  long.  If  you  can  manage  to  raise  a  canter  out 
of  this  moth-eaten  monster,  you  ought  to  be  back 
inside  an  hour." 

The  moth-eaten  monster  stood  patiently  await- 
ing the  signal  to  take  up  his  weary  way  again. 
His  ears,  one  of  which  was  slit  down  the  middle, 
drooped  dejectedly,  and  his  nigh  hind  leg  had 


THE  LODESTAR  5 

sunk  hopelessly  under  him.  King  looked  at  him 
with  an  especial  critical  inspection  of  the  back- 
bone, which  ran  high  and  sharp  and  threatening 
down  the  creature's  long  back. 

"  What !  —  me  ride  that  ? "  he  replied  with  a 
trace  of  acerbity.  "  Not  by  a  good  deal !  If  I 
wanted  to  experiment  on  bisecting  my  own  spinal 
column  longitudinally,  I  might  gallop  Alfred  the 
Great,  here,  into  Burnham.  Otherwise  not  —  dis- 
tinctly and  decidedly  not!  If  you're  so  keen 
about  riding,  ride  him  yourself." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  keen  about  it,"  his  companion 
hurriedly  answered.  "  I  only  offered  it  as  a  sug- 
gestion. You're  in  command  of  the  expedition. 
I  can  see  now  that  you're  quite  right  —  I  hadn't 
noticed  the  guard-rail  effect  on  top  of  him.  But 
you're  not  going  to  stop  here  all  the  afternoon,  are 
you  ?  Not  that  it  isn't  perfectly  delightful  here ; 
but  it's  an  indefinite  sort  of  place  to  stop." 

"  Robert  Louis  Stevenson,"  remarked  King, 
reproachfully,  "  once  observed  that  to  travel  hope- 
fully was  a  better  thing  than  to  arrive." 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course,"  Burgess  admitted;  "but 
when  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  made  that  particu- 
lar observation,  he  had  probably  just  gotten  home 
from  some  unpleasant  place  and  was  sitting  in  one 
chair  with  his  feet  on  another,  smoking  a  cigar. 


6  THE  LODESTAR 

Besides,  that  doesn't  apply  to  our  case  at  all,  be- 
cause by  no  extension  of  the  term  —  unless  you 
mean  that  we're  away  from  home  —  can  we  be 
said  to  be  travelling.  In  other  words,  what  are 
you  going  to  do  about  it  ? " 

King  wet  his  finger,  and  leaned  over  and  touched 
the  edge  of  the  axle. 

"It's  perfectly  clear  to  me  that  we  can't  get 
back  to  Burnham  this  way,"  he  said ;  "  and  as  you, 
with  your  usual  lack  of  foresight,  have  neglected 
to  bring  both  axle  grease  and  cigarettes  —  which 
make  delays  tolerable  —  I  am  going  into  this 
farmer's  to  get  fixed  up.  Go  on ! "  He  struck 
Alfred  the  Great  sharply  with  the  whip,  and  the 
yellow  horse  moved  slowly  forward. 

The  vehicle  rattled  down  the  stony  road  through 
the  gap  in  the  wall,  where  the  maples  were  bud- 
ding vernally ;  it  went  rumbling  across  the  wooden 
bridge  through  which  the  little  stream,  black  and 
swollen,  was  tumbling  hastily  along;  it  followed 
on  between  the  orchards,  snowy  with  their  masses 
of  blossoms;  and  it  plodded  along  up  the  slope 
and  across  the  yard  to  the  low,  white,  green- 
shuttered  old  house.  There  the  eyes  of  the  young 
men  framed  a  picture  that  stuck  in  their  minds  for 
many  a  day. 

On  the  top  step  of  the  four  steps  which  led  up 


THE  LODESTAR  7 

to  the  wide  piazza,  of  the  house  sat  a  girl,  who  had 
watched  with  interest  the  buggy  make  its  slow 
approach  up  the  driveway.  She  was  nineteen  or 
twenty  years  old,  rather  tall,  and  very  soft-eyed; 
she  was  dressed  all  in  white,  and  she  had  put  a 
small  spray  of  apple  blossoms  in  her  smooth  brown 
hair.  She  sat  looking  at  the  approaching  vehicle 
with  far-away  eyes,  and  with  her  slender  hands 
clasped  over  her  knees;  and  when  it  halted,  she 
came  slowly  down  the  steps. 

"  By  Jove ! "  said  Burgess,  under  his  breath. 
King  put  the  frayed  whip  into  the  shaky  socket 
and  took  off  his  hat. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  he,  civilly,  "  but  we 
seem  to  have  developed  a  hot  box  in  one  of  the 
wheels  of  this  buggy,  and  we  thought  perhaps  we 
might  be  able  to  fix  it  here." 

"  That  this  horse,"  said  Burgess,  indicating  with 
a  gesture  of  profound  contempt  the  faded  steed 
before  him,  "should  have  attained  the  velocity 
sufficient  to  cause  a  hot  box  appears,  I  admit, 
most  improbable  —  almost  incredible;  but,  unfor- 
tunately, it  is  true." 

The  girl  glanced  swiftly  at  Alfred  the  Great, 
and  smiled  frankly  up  at  the  two  men. 

"  If  you  will  drive  up  to  the  barn,"  she  said,  point- 
ing the  way,  "  I  will  try  to  find  our  hired  man." 


8  THE  LODESTAR 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  King  answered.  He 
replaced  his  hat  on  his  head,  and  shook  the  reins 
over  the  back  of  the  yellow  horse,  which  reluc- 
tantly proceeded,  the  girl  going  across  the  yard 
in  front  of  them.  Burgess  deliberated  whether 
politeness  demanded  or  lack  of  acquaintance  for- 
bade his  leaping  out  and  escorting  her;  he  pru- 
dently decided  to  remain  where  he  was. 

When  they  arrived  before  the  barn,  the  girl  had 
disappeared  into  the  building,  and  the  two  young 
men  climbed  out  of  the  buggy  and  stood  awaiting 
her  return.  Presently  she  came  back,  and  there 
was  a  little  trouble  in  her  look. 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  she  announced,  standing  in 
the  doorway,  "but  I've  just  remembered  that 
Hiram  has  gone  to  a  funeral,  and  my  uncle  is 
away,  too.  But  I'm  sure  we  must  have  a  jack 
and  some  axle  grease  somewhere  —  I  presume  that 
is  what  you  want." 

Burgess  took  it  upon  himself  to  reply. 

"  Far  be  it  from  us  to  begrudge  Hiram  his  inno- 
cent diversions  or  to  regret  from  selfish  motives 
your  uncle's  absence,"  he  said.  "  And  your  pre- 
sumption is  quite  correct  —  a  jack  and  some  axle 
grease  is  exactly  what  we  want." 

"  Then  suppose  you  both  come  in  and  help  me 
find  them,"  the  girl  suggested.  A  very  faint 


THE   LODESTAR  9 

gleam  of  amusement  shone  on  the  surface  of  her 
long-lashed  eyes.  "Will  your  horse  stand?"  she 
inquired  gravely. 

The  two  young  men  looked  back  on  Alfred  the 
Great,  who  appeared  to  be  sinking  into  a  gentle 
stupor. 

"  He's  capable  of  it,"  said  King.  "  I  think  he's 
capable  of  almost  anything.  Yes,  I  believe  he'll 
stand,"  he  remarked  thoughtfully,  and  then  they 
all  three  went  together  into  the  barn. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  don't  know  very  well  where  the  dif- 
ferent things  are  kept,"  the  girl  confessed.  "  Now, 
where  do  you  suppose  they  keep  the  jack  ? " 

For  a  moment  her  guests  were  at  a  loss  to  reply. 
Each  of  them  was  perfectly  positive  that  the 
proper  place  to  keep  a  jack  was,  of  course,  in  the 
barn,  but  each  of  them  was  totally  unable  to  name 
a  more  specific  location.  Suddenly  an  inspiration 
came  to  Burgess ;  with  as  much  confidence  as  if 
he  had  been  all  his  life  an  hostler  he  advanced  his 
theory. 

"  It  ought  to  be  somewhere  near  where  they 
wash  the  wagons,"  he  announced  authoritatively. 
"  Don't  they  always  take  off  the  wheels  when 
they  wash  the  wagons  ?  Where  do  they  wash 
the  wagons? "-he  asked  his  young  hostess  eagerly. 

"Outside,  in  the  yard,  I  think,"  she  replied. 


10  THE   LODESTAR 

This  answer  was  certainly  a  setback,  but  just 
then  King  spied  the  desired  article  in  a  corner. 

"  Here  it  is ! "  he  called  out,  holding  it  up. 
"  Now  for  the  axle  grease !  " 

"Don't  you  think  it  should  be  near  by?"  the 
girl  said. 

"  But  it  isn't,"  King  answered,  after  investigating. 

Here  the  alert  Burgess  perceived  a  possibility. 

"Very  likely  it's  in  the  harness  closet,"  he 
suggested. 

An  inspection  of  the  harness  closet  actually 
brought  to  light  that  which  they  were  seeking,  and 
Burgess  felt  that  he  had  recovered  his  lost  ground. 

"  Ah,  I  thought  we'd  find  it  there !  "  he  remarked 
triumphantly,  as  though  the  subtle  intricacies  in 
the  arrangements  of  a  strange  barn  might  puzzle 
him  for  a  moment  but  not  for  long.  "  And  here's 
a  wrench,  too !  You'd  both  of  you  forgotten  that 
we'd  need  that,  although  I  suppose  I  might  have 
unscrewed  the  nuts  with  my  strong,  nervous  fin- 
gers," he  explained. 

The  jack,  the  wrench,  and  the  axle  grease  were 
borne  out  to  the  buggy,  when  Burgess  was  seized 
by  another  idea. 

"  First  we'll  have  to  cool  the  axle,  of  course,"  he 
announced. 

At  this  display  of  profound  mechanical  knowl- 


THE   LODESTAR  II 

edge  the  others  were  silent.  Neither  King  nor 
the  girl  asked  why.  The  girl  asked,  "  How  ?  " 

"  Cold  water,"  said  the  young  man,  promptly. 

But  King  was  not  wholly  destitute  of  ingenuity. 
And  what  he  possessed  he  turned  to  very  practical 
use. 

"  Cold  water?"  he  echoed  with  a  trace  of  what 
verged  on  indignation  in  his  manner.  "  Cold 
water  ?  Decidedly  not !  The  axle  must  cool  off 
naturally.  Would  you  ruin  the  temper  of  the 
whole  thing,  man,  to  save  a  paltry  five  minutes? 
You  have  absolutely  no  idea  of  the  value  of  other 
men's  property.  Cold  water,  indeed  !  One  might 
think  the  buggy  belonged  to  one  of  us." 

The  girl  looked  carefully  at  the  vehicle  under 
discussion.  Its  body  was  cracked  and  scratched, 
the  wheels  bulged  in  and  out  inconsistently,  the 
paint  had  flecked  off  in  spots,  the  top  was  dingy 
and  weather-worn,  the  shafts  were  warped  and 
one  of  them  hung  lower  than  the  other,  the 
cushions  and  lap  robe  were  faded  and  frayed ;  its 
general  appearance  was  one  of  pathetic  senile 
decay.  The  gleam  of  amusement  came  again  into 
her  eyes. 

"You  don't  own  it,  then?"  she  inquired  in 
mock  surprise. 

The  two  young  men  looked  seriously  at  her  and 


12  THE   LODESTAR 

then  at  their  turnout.  The  unchecked  head  of 
Alfred  the  Great  had  drooped;  evidently  he  was 
grazing  along  the  verge  of  the  Elysian  Fields. 

"  No,"  King  replied  gravely ;  "  we  don't  own  it. 
Astonishing  as  it  may  seem  to  be,  we  were  able  to 
hire  for  vulgar  money  at  a  common  livery  stable 
this  priceless  pearl  of  transportation." 

"  Really  ? "  was  all  thegirl couldsay.  "  Really?" 
King  thought  there  was  the  most  delightful  ripple 
of  a  laugh  in  her  voice,  and  he  was  struck  by  the 
fact  that  he  had  never  before  seen  one  pair  of 
eyes  capable  of  changing  through  so  many  differ- 
ent shades  of  brown.  When  this  girl  was  serious 
her  eyes  were  deep  and  dark  and  cool  like  a  quiet, 
shaded  mountain  lake,  but  when  her  mood  went 
from  grave  to  gay  her  eyes  caught  sunshine  and 
life  and  laughter  like  a  swift,  merry  little  brook. 
He  ventured  another  glance  at  them. 

"  Yes,"  he  went  on ;  "  for  the  absurdly  moderate 
stipend  of  two  dollars  in  the  currency  of  the  realm 
we  are  allowed  the  exclusive  use  of  this  —  what 
shall  I  call  it  ?  —  this  transportational  plant  during 
the  whole  afternoon." 

"Axle  grease,  of  course,  being  extra,"  Burgess 
put  in. 

"A  fact  of  which  we  were  heretofore  unaware," 
King  hastened  to  add. 


THE   LODESTAR  13 

The  girl's  eyes  caught  the  sunshine  as  Burgess 
stood  watching  her,  and  he  took  his  inspiration 
from  them. 

"  I  think,"  said  he,  deliberately,  "  that  what  the 
axle  needs  is  a  complete  rest  for  at  least  ten 
minutes." 

"  I  should  have  said  fifteen,"  King  interposed. 

Their  hostess  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of 
them. 

"  Perhaps,  then,  it  would  be  pleasanter  to  wait  at 
the  house  than  here — for  us,"  she  said. 

Her  suggestion  was  voraciously  snapped  up  by 
her  visitors. 

"Very  much  pleasanter,"  said  King. 

"  By  all  means  —  thank  you,"  said  Burgess. 

The  girl  turned  toward  Alfred  the  Great,  who 
now  seemed  chained  in  solid  slumber. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  had  better  hitch  your 
horse  there?"  she  said  to  her  guests,  indicating  a 
wooden  post. 

"  He  might  be  a  somnambulist,  you  know," 
said  Burgess  to  King,  warningly. 

"  It  seems  to  me  to  smack  of  ultra-conservatism 
—  to  savor  of  nervous  effeminacy  rather  than  of 
true  caution,"  King  replied  in  mild  protest. 
"  However,  in  deference  to  the  suggestion  I  will 
hitch  him."  And  awakening  Alfred  and  leading 


14  THE   LODESTAR 

him  forward,  he  burrowed  under  the  buggy  seat 
for  the  tie  rope,  snapped  the  catch  in  the  yellow 
horse's  bit,  and  fastened  him  securely  to  the  post. 
"  There !  "  said  he. 

Then  they  began  to  walk  down  toward  the  house, 
one  of  the  young  men  on  each  side  of  the  girl.  At 
this  point  King  decided  that  mutual  introductions 
would  be  in  order. 

"  While  I  would  have  been  glad  to  accept  your 
axle  grease  in  a  purely  impersonal  way,"  he  began, 
"  I  am  not  willing  to  accept  the  hospitality  and  the 
friendly  shelter  of  your  residence  —  for  I  dare  say 
it  is  your  residence  —  without  letting  you  know 
who  I  am." 

His  hostess  looked  somewhat  surprised — even 
alarmed. 

"  Oh,  I  say  !  "  Burgess  protested.  "  He's  not  as 
bad  as  all  that,"  he  reassured  her. 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  King.  "  I  merely  meant 
that  I  would  like  to  introduce  myself  —  if  you  had 
no  objection." 

"  Not  in  the  least.  Who  are  you,  anyway  ? " 
Burgess  replied  heartily. 

"  Nonsense !    I  didn't  mean  you,"  King  retorted. 

"  I  have  no  objection,"  the  girl  said,  smiling. 

"I  am  one  Hamilton  King,"  explained  the 
young  man  on  her  right,  "  and  my  friend  here  — 


THE   LODESTAR  15 

and  I  dare  say  you  are  my  friend,"  he  remarked 
across  her  shoulder,  "  is  one  Oliver  Burgess." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  girl,  "  am  one  Eleanor  Hyde." 

"  Good  !  "  said  Hamilton  King.  "  Now  we're  all 
properly  introduced.  There's  nothing  like  a  proper 
introduction  to  put  three  strangers  perfectly  at  ease 
with  each  other,"  he  remarked.  "  Before  this  I 
could  detect  just  a  trace  of  embarrassment  and  con- 
straint, a  faint  hauteur  in  all  our  manners.  And  now 
it  is  all  blown  away,"  he  gestured  lightly,  "  by  a  mere 
mutual  disclosure  of  identity.  How  delightful ! " 

"  Will  you  come  in,  or  shall  we  stay  out  here  ? " 
Miss  Hyde  interjected.  They  had  reached  the 
house. 

"If  you  don't  mind,"  said  Burgess,  decidedly, 
"  I  wish  that  you  would  sit  down  on  that  top  step 
—  where  you  were  sitting  when  we  came  up  the 
road.  You  looked  so  comfortable  there,"  he  ex- 
plained lumberingly.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  was 
by  no  means  a  bad  spot  he  had  selected ;  a  slum- 
bering maltese  cat  bore  evidence  of  the  soundness 
of  his  choice. 

"Very  well,"  the  girl  responded.  She  sat  down, 
arranging  her  skirts  about  her.  "  Will  you  sit  here, 
too,  or  will  you  get  chairs  from  the  piazza.  ? " 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  again,"  said  Burgess,  "  I 
should  like  awfully  to  sit  at  your  feet.  I  haven't  sat 


!6  THE   LODESTAR 

at  a  girl's  feet  in  so  long  a  time  that  I'm  fairly  pining 
for  it  —  I  give  you  my  word,  my  blood  leaps  through 
my  veins  at  the  thought.  Of  course  I  should  sit  at 
a  perfectly  respectful  distance,"  he  added. 

"Then  I  suppose  that  you  may,"  his  hostess 
replied. 

"I,  on  the  contrary,  shall  get  a  chair,"  said 
King,  and  with  gross  utilitarianism  he  helped  him- 
self to  a  very  large  one  and  placed  it  on  the  gravel 
path  at  the  foot  of  the  steps.  "  Now  we  are  ready 
to  cool  off  that  axle,"  he  remarked,  settling  himself 
with  an  audible  sigh  of  comfort. 

The  two  others  laughed. 

It  occurred  to  Burgess  that  it  was  high  time  to 
evince  an  interest  in  the  affairs  of  his  young  hostess. 

"  You  live  here,  Miss  Hyde  ?  "  he  inquired  with 
grave,  polite  inanity. 

Eleanor  was  unequal  to  more  than  a  simple 
affirmative. 

"Yes,"  she  acknowledged. 

"  And  a  very  beautiful  spot  you  have  chosen," 
said  King,  approvingly,  from  the  depths  of  his 
chair,  looking  about  him  with  frank  admiration. 

"I  like  it,"  Miss  Hyde  answered  truthfully; 
"but  I  didn't  choose  it.  I  was  born  here." 

"  How  romantic  !  "  Burgess  commented  with 
questionable  appositeness.  "There's  something 


THE   LODESTAR  17 

romantic  about  being  born  anywhere,  it  has  always 
seemed  to  me.  One's  utter  helplessness  —  all  life 
before  one — all  that  sort  of  thing,  you  understand," 
he  explained.  "  Now  I  presume  you've  lived  here 
all  your  life,"  he  hazarded. 

"Given  the  two  terminals  —  find  the  line,"  said 
King.  "  Unworthy  of  you  in  its  simplicity,  Ollie." 

"  Yes,"  Eleanor  answered  Burgess.  "  I've  lived 
here  the  most  of  my  life  with  my  uncle  —  except 
when  I  was  at  Allingwood  at  school." 

It  struck  both  the  young  city  men  that  it  was 
somewhat  extraordinary  for  a  Connecticut  farmer's 
niece  to  have  gained  her  education  at  the  fashion- 
able and  exclusive  Allingwood.  Evidently  it  was 
from  there  that  this  girl  had  gained  the  poise  and 
the  grace  of  manner  by  which  she  had  been  en- 
abled to  meet  so  easily  the  complicated  nonsense 
they  had  talked.  But  they  were  a  little  perplexed. 

"  Your  uncle  keeps  a  farm,  I  take  it  ? "  King 
inquired  politely. 

His  question  might  almost  have  been  deemed 
superfluous,  but  the  girl  was  gently  affable. 

"Yes,"  she  replied;  "we  keep  a  farm.  We 
raise  mostly  milk  —  and  vegetables,  cream,  and 
hay  for  our  own  use,"  she  specified,  catching  the 
spirit  of  the  occasion. 

The  young  men  laughed.     And  meanwhile  Bur- 


1 8  THE   LODESTAR 

gess  had  been  sifting  his  memory  along  the  line  of 
mutual  acquaintance.  But  first  King  let  fly  a  mild 
shaft. 

"You  keep  cows ? "  he  asked  with  an  affectation 
of  real  interest. 

"Yes,"  Miss  Hyde  answered.  "They  require 
considerable  care,  but  the  public  seems  to  fancy 
their  milk  better  than  any  other  sort."  The  young 
hostess  was  giving  as  good  as  she  received. 

Burgess  had  come  to  a  mark  upon  his  quest, 
and  he  broke  in  :  — 

"  You  must  have  been  at  Allingwood  at  the  time 
May  Brinton  was  there,"  he  said. 

Eleanor  acquiesced  rather  than  enthused. 

"Yes.  She  left  school  a  few  months  after  I 
entered.  I  didn't  know  her  very  well." 

"  Is  she  John  S.  Brinton's  daughter  ?  "  King 
asked  Burgess. 

"Yes." 

"Her  father's  very  rich,  isn't  he?"  Eleanor 
inquired.  The  family  plutocracy  shone  alarmingly 
from  the  only  child. 

"  Very  rich,"  said  Burgess. 

"Very  recently  —  very  suddenly,"  was  King's 
qualification. 

"They've  taken  a  place  here  for  the  summer  — 
that  is  to  say,  in  Burnham,"  Burgess  stated. 


THE   LODESTAR  19 

Miss  Hyde's  interest  did  not  warm  to  exuber- 
ance. 

"  Have  they  ? "  she  said  in  a  perfectly  level 
voice.  "  Do  you  think  Mr.  Brinton.will  bring  all 
his  automobiles  along  ?  He  used  to  come  up  to 
Allingwood  quite  often  to  see  May,  and  they  say 
he  had  a  touring-car  of  a  different  color  every  time 
he  came." 

"I  guess  he'll  bring  quite  a  flotilla  of  them," 
Burgess  replied.  "  John  S.  can  usually  be  relied 
on  to  shed  a  faint  odor  of  gasoline  over  the  atmos- 
phere wherever  he  passes  by.  And  the  smell  of 
ignited  lucre  is  also  more  or  less  noticeable  in  his 
immediate  presence.  But  in  spite  of  it,  he's  really 
a  very  good  sort  of  man." 

"  I've  heard  he  was  decent  enough — although  he 
liked  to  hear  the  double  eagles  go  pop,"  said  King. 

"  Are  there  any  other  children  ?  "  Eleanor  asked. 

"  No,"  Burgess  responded ;  "  May  is  the  only 
one,  and  Mr.  Brinton  is  a  widower.  There's  an 
aunt  or  something,  who  took  up  the  chaperonage 
contract  years  ago,  and  travels  about  with  them. 
She  doesn't  count  at  all,  but  you'll  doubtless  meet 
her." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  shall,"  the  girl  replied.  "  I 
knew  May  very  slightly,  and  I  seldom  go  into 
town,  anyway." 


20  THE   LODESTAR 

"But  don't  you  get  very  tired  of  staying  out 
here  ?  "  inquired  King. 

Eleanor  laughed,  but  her  brown  eyes  deepened 
just  a  little  wistfully. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  I  do,  sometimes,"  she  con- 
fessed. "  I  like  it  here  awfully,  but  one  gets  tired 
of  any  one  place,  I  think." 

"But  you  have  callers  and  visitors?"  King 
suggested. 

"  Sometimes  —  by  accident,"  his  hostess  re- 
turned, smiling. 

"  Which  brings  me  reluctantly  back  to  the 
thought  that  by  this  time  our  axle  must  have 
cooled  off,"  said  King. 

So  they  all  went  back  up  the  hill  again,  and  the 
convalescent  buggy  was  jacked  up,  and  each  wheel 
in  turn  was  greased  as  skilfully  as  two  very  inex- 
perienced young  city  men  were  able  to  do  it,  while 
Miss  Hyde  commented  encouragingly  upon  their 
labors.  When  this  job  had  been  done,  King  un- 
hitched the  yellow  horse  from  the  post  and  thrust 
the  tie  rope  under  the  seat. 

"We're  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  every- 
thing," he  said. 

"  I  shall  tell  May  Brinton  that  I  saw  you  here," 
said  Burgess. 

"Good-by,"  said  King.      He  took  off  his  hat, 


THE   LODESTAR  21 

and  held  out  his  hand  to  the  girl,  who  allowed  her 
slender  fingers  to  rest  for  a  moment  in  his. 

"  Good-by,"  said  Burgess,  following  his  com- 
panion's example,  and  climbing  into  the  buggy 
after  him.  He  spread  the  frayed,  brown  linen 
lap  robe  over  their  knees,  King  clucked  to  the 
yellow  horse,  and  Alfred  the  Great  moved  slowly 
off  down  the  hill 


II 


THE  angular  steed  took  the  homeward  road  at  a 
shambling  trot,  for  the  cuisine  of  the  livery  was  an 
ever  forceful  magnet  to  Alfred.  As  they  went 
past  the  orchard  Burgess  gave  one  swift  glance 
backward  up  the  hill,  but  their  young  hostess  had 
vanished  from  sight.  He  substituted  his  com- 
panion to  his  attention. 

"  Well  ? "  said  he,  inquiringly. 

It  was  natural  that  King  should  follow  on  his 
train  of  thought. 

"  Curious  —  extremely  curious,"  he  remarked  to 
himself  reflectively. 

"  I  meant  the  girl,"  Burgess  explained. 

"  Of  course,"  King  answered.  "  Ollie,"  he  said, 
motioning  back  with  his  whip,  "  how  on  earth  do 
you  suppose  she  happened  to  get  here  ?  " 

"  Well,  she  said  she  was  born  here,"  replied  his 
practical  companion.  "  That's  an  explanation  worth 
considering,  I  should  say." 

King  brushed  this  aside. 

"It  doesn't  explain  anything  at  all,"  he  retorted. 

22 


THE   LODESTAR  23 

"  I  don't  quite  understand  it.  Why,  I  know  of 
a  number  of  clever  men  who  have  spent  years 
looking  all  over  the  world  for  that  very  girl  —  and 
I  can't  much  blame  them  for  having  missed  her." 
He  suddenly  veered  to  his  direct  subject.  "Wasn't 
she  charming  ?  "  he  said  frankly. 

"  Very,  indeed,"  Burgess  replied.  "  I  never  saw 
eyes  quite  like  hers  before,  Ham  —  quite  so  many 
colors.  Say,"  he  said,  almost  shyly,  "  I'm  no  sen- 
timentalist or  anything  of  that  sort,  but  I've  got 
some  little  eye  for  art,  and  if  I  could  paint  that 
girl  sitting  there  on  that  step  against  that  dingy 
old  farm-house,  with  the  sunlight  on  her  hair  and 
her  eyes  very  deep  and  asking  me  questions  I 
couldn't  answer  —  well,  I  think  I'd  like  to  stay  out 
there  a  few  weeks  —  or  years  —  and  finish  the 
picture." 

King  smiled  and  gently  flicked  the  yellow  horse 
on  the  slit  ear. 

"  Sounds  effective,"  he  admitted  with  caution. 
"  It's  too  bad  you  can't  dabble  a  little  with  the 
colors,  Ollie." 

"Yes,"  Burgess  returned.  "And  what's  more, 
I  can't  even  write  —  like  you.  Now  there's  a 
chance  for  you  —  why  don't  you  put  her  in  one 
of  your  stories  ?  " 

King  was  still  smiling  a  little. 


24  THE  LODESTAR 

"She's  in  every  story  I  ever  wrote,"  he  said 
with  complete  seriousness. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  his  companion. 

"Just  what  I  say,"  the  first  man  responded. 

"  Oh ! "  said  Burgess.  And  for  a  while  they 
drove  on  in  silence. 

The  buggy  went  jogging  along  the  narrow  road, 
which  was  stony  on  the  wash  of  the  hilly  places, 
muddy  in  the  hollows,  rutted  and  caked  along  the 
levels.  Between  the  way  and  the  paralleling  walls 
green  weeds  were  beginning  to  spring  from  the 
rough  texture  of  the  dead,  brown  roadside  growth. 
On  the  gray  tree-tops  there  was  commencing  to 
show  a  tinge  of  tender  green  from  the  bursting 
buds.  The  drive  of  the  two  young  men  took 
them  along  beside  great  pasture  lots,  and  where 
the  ground  swelled  more  softly,  long  lines  of  curv- 
ing brown  furrows  led  away,  and  now  and  again 
they  came  upon  an  emerald  field  of  winter  wheat, 
its  intensity  of  coloring  contrasting  vividly  with 
the  demure  tone  of  its  surroundings.  Here  a 
whirling  brook  would  rush  hurriedly  down  to 
swell  the  brimming  little  river;  there  a  barred 
gap  in  the  wall  would  disclose  a  rutted,  grassy 
road  running  along  a  field  side  to  the  serried 
woods  below.  And  by  field  and  wood  and  way- 
side, birds  were  flying  and  calling.  At  last  the 


THE  LODESTAR  25 

buggy  topped  a  crest  and  began  to  descend  a 
long,  straight  hill  that  fell  evenly  down  into  a 
little  valley  ;  and  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  was  the 
railroad  station,  where  the  line  which  wound  along 
the  valley  made  its  terminus ;  and  up  the  side  of 
the  opposite  slope  and  lying  along  the  ridge 
was  the  town  of  Burnham. 

Alfred  the  Great  took  the  ascent  with  dignified 
deliberation,  pulling  steadily  on  the  dubious  traces, 
and  finally  turned  in  at  a  crescent  driveway  which 
led  up  to  the  door  of  the  Burnham  Inn,  a  long, 
low,  shingled  structure,  painted  dark  red,  and 
carrying  a  look  of  substantial,  quiet  comfort. 
Out  from  behind  some  indefinite  where,  a  shabby 
boy  came  into  being,  standing  needlessly  at  the 
horse's  head,  while  the  two  occupants  of  the  buggy 
dismounted.  King  unbuttoned  his  top-coat  and 
dug  into  his  change  pocket. 

"  Frank,"  said  he,  "  here's  a  quarter  for  you. 
Take  back  this  rig  to  Mr.  Jenkins,  and  tell  him 
that  the  axles  haven't  been  greased  in  some  years. 
Tell  him  that  by  his  neglect  on  this  point  he  has 
caused  me  to  go  somewhat  out  of  my  way  and  de- 
layed me  considerably.  And  thank  him  for  me." 

Frank  took  the  quarter  but  failed  to  grasp 
King's  climax. 

"  What's  that  ? "  he  said,  staring  dumbly. 


26  THE   LODESTAR 

Burgess  laughed,  and  the  two  young  men 
turned  toward  the  door  of  the  inn.  The  shabby 
boy  looked  doubtfully  after  them ;  then  he  put 
the  coin  into  his  pocket,  swung  himself  into  the 
buggy,  shook  the  reins  over  the  back  of  the  yellow 
horse,  and  drove  out  of  the  inn  yard,  whistling,  one 
burst-booted  foot  hanging  rakishly  out  over  the 
edge  of  the  buggy  box.  King  and  his  companion 
had  passed  into  the  office. 

"Almost  five  o'clock.  Have  a  drink,  Ollie?" 
he  asked. 

Burgess  reflected. 

"No  thank  you — I  think  not,"  he  said.  A 
waitress  came  out  of  the  adjoining  room,  which  she 
had  been  sweeping.  "Annie,"  said  the  young 
man,  "  I  believe  I  will  have  some  tea  and  toast. 
You  may  bring  it  out  here  into  the  office.  And 
Annie,  while  it  is  always  pleasant  to  know  that 
one's  food  has  been  thoroughly  cooked,  this  does 
not  apply  with  equal  felicity  to  one's  drink.  In 
this  connection  I  do  not  hesitate  to  affirm  that  the 
tea  which  this  establishment  set  before  me  yester- 
day afternoon  had  been  boiled  for  several  hours 
and  then  set  on  the  back  of  the  stove  to  simmer, 
as  the  cook-books  say.  No  more  like  that,  and 
you  love  me.  And  Annie,  aim  to  distribute  the 
butter  over  a  wider  surface-area  of  toast  rather 


THE   LODESTAR  27 

than  attempt  to  preserve  its  integrity  in  one  un- 
molten  central  mass.  In  simpler  language,  spread 
it.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Annie.  "  You  want  tea  and 
toast,  sir,"  she  interpreted  rather  proudly,  having 
caught  the  first  sentence. 

"  Quite  so,"  Burgess  replied. 

"I'll  have  some,  also,"  said  King,  and  the  wait- 
ress went  out. 

Burgess  selected  a  comfortable  chair,  and  sat 
down. 

"  I  believe  I  will  speak  to  May  Brinton  about 
her,"  he  said  reflectively. 

"  About  Annie  ? "  his  friend  inquired,  with  an 
affectation  of  innocence. 

"  Of  course  not,"  the  other  man  answered. 
"About  Miss  Hyde." 

King  lit  a  cigarette  and  threw  the  match  at  a 
remote  cuspidor. 

"You'd  better  be  careful,"  was  his  warning. 
"  If  the  Brintons  should  really  take  her  up  and 
start  her  off  as  they  could  start  her  if  they  chose, 
you  can't  tell  what  might  happen  to  her  —  you  can't 
tell  where  she'd  finish." 

"Very  good,"  Burgess  responded.  "  I  admit  all 
that.  But  I  believe  she'd  finish  with  the  leaders, 
and  if  she  stays  where  she  is,  very  likely  nothing 
at  all  will  ever  happen  to  her." 


28  THE  LODESTAR 

It  was  in  King's  mind  to  suggest  that  perhaps 
this  alternative  was  not  altogether  undesirable, 
but  he  hesitated  to  voice  the  suggestion  for  fear 
that  it  might  sound  cheaply  cynical. 

"  It  would  certainly  give  her  a  chance,"  Burgess 
argued. 

"  It's  not  a  chance  —  it's  a  risk,"  King  corrected 
him. 

"  Don't  you  think  she'd  make  a  hit  in  that  set  ? " 
Burgess  asked. 

"  A  hit  ?  Of  course  she  would.  She'd  make  a 
hit  in  any  set.  She's  perfectly  charming,"  King 
replied  quickly.  "  But  look  at  Brinton  and  his 
crowd,  man !  I  don't  know  him  and  you  do,  but 
I've  always  understood  he  was  a  sort  of  wild-west 
millionnaire  without  even  the  restraint  of  social  am- 
bition. He  doesn't  care  for  any  one's  opinion.  Of 
course  there  probably  isn't  any  harm  in  him  ;  in 
fact  I've  heard  of  some  pretty  decent  things  he's 
done  without  advertising  their  authorship;  he's 
undoubtedly  a  man  of  generous  impulses,  and  his 
ingenious  energy  and  absolute  independence  are 
rather  amusing  to  a  comparative  outsider  like  me ; 
but  isn't  he  a  queer  bird  to  put  back  of  a  country 
girl  on  the  social  road  ? " 

"  I  like  Mr.  Brinton,"  his  companion  responded. 
"  I  don't  know  him  very  well  —  he's  a  good  deal 


THE   LODESTAR  29 

older  than  I  am,  of  course,  although  he's  such  a 
hustler  he  seems  a  good  deal  younger  than  he  is ; 
and  he  certainly  is  amusing,  and  his  unaffected- 
ness  and  sincerity  are  simply  delightful.  If  Mr. 
Brinton  feeds  you  on  terrapin  that  cost  five  dollars 
apiece  and  you  find  it  out,  he  isn't  a  bit  embar- 
rassed over  your  discovery ;  he  gives  you  the  im- 
pression that  he  knows  there  aren't  many  men  who 
can  afford  such  things,  but  he's  glad  he's  one  of  the 
few  that  can ;  it  isn't  that  he's  pleased  because 
you've  caught  him  giving  you  something  fearfully 
costly,  but  because  its  cost  doesn't  make  the 
slightest  difference  to  him.  And  if  you  have  a 
taste  for  terrapin,  the  sort  Brinton  gives  you  is 
usually  worth  to  you  what  he  pays  for  it." 

"  So  I've  always  understood,"  King  commented 
dryly. 

"  He's  absolutely  frank,  too,"  the  other  young 
man  continued.  "  He's  not  one  of  your  ordinary 
sudden  plutocrats  —  the  sort  that  hire  genealogists 
to  shake  down  the  dead  branches  of  their  family 
trees  and  drag  them  into  the  Pilgrim  Father  or- 
ganizations. Mr.  Brinton  rather  brags  that  he 
hasn't  got  a  genealogist  on  his  pay-roll,  and 
doesn't  want  one.  Back  of  his  father,  he  says 
none  of  his  ancestors  ever  did  anything  for  him, 
and  he  hasn't  even  a  friendly  interest  in  them. 


30  THE   LODESTAR 

I  believe  his  father  invented  something  very  corn* 
mon  —  clothespins,  or  something  of  that  sort  — 
although  a  lot  of  people  claim  that  the  old  gentle- 
man stole  the  invention  from  an  intimate  friend. 
At  any  rate,  he  got  it." 

"  How  interesting  !  "  said  King,  laughing.  "  I 
never  knew  before  where  his  money  came  from." 

"  He  made  most  of  it,  though,  in  Wall  Street," 
Burgess  said.  "  And  a  lot  of  it  there  is,  too.  It 
came  so  fast  that  it  doesn't  seem  possible  that  it 
was  legitimate,  but  no  one's  ever  tried  to  prove  any- 
thing. Mr.  Brinton  doesn't  care  what  people  say, 
anyway.  At  some  dinner  a  while  ago  the  men 
around  him  were  trying  to  draw  him  out  about  the 
unscrupulousness  of  the  stock  exchange,  and  Mr. 
Brinton  laughed  and  said,  '  Gentlemen,  you'll  never 
get  me  to  raise  my  voice  against  an  institution  that 
lifted  me  from  mere  prosperity  into  the  very  front 
ranks  of  the  nouveaux  riches.'  I  admired  his 
sentiment." 

"  Very  courageous  and  commendable,  I'm  sure," 
said  King. 

At  this  point  Annie  entered,  bearing  on  a  tray 
the  tea  and  toast. 

The  sun  was  fast  falling  to  the  misty  horizon  of 
the  western  hills,  and  a  chill  breeze  was  blowing 
down  the  valley,  so  an  open  fire  was  kindled  on 


THE   LODESTAR  31 

the  hearth,  and  near  it  the  small  table  was  set. 
Burgess  did  the  honors. 

"So  you  think  you'll  speak  to  Miss  Brinton 
about  her  ? "  King  went  back  to  the  subject. 

"  I  think  so,"  his  friend  replied,  pouring  in  the 
hot  water.  "  You  see,  if  she  stays  where  she  is, 
nothing  at  all  may  ever  happen  to  her,"  he 
repeated  his  previous  argument. 

There  came  to  King  another  thought  than  the 
comparative  desirability  of  the  alternative.  It 
struck  sharply  on  him  that  no  matter  how  effective 
it  might  be  made,  concealment  could  not  wholly 
block  the  destiny  of  Eleanor  Hyde. 

"  It's  my  opinion,"  he  remarked  with  decision, 
"  that  unless  I'm  greatly  mistaken,  something  will 
happen  to  that  girl  we  saw,  wherever  she  may  be. 
Now,  you  remember  what  I  say."  He  took  up 
the  cup  of  tea  which  the  man  across  the  table  had 
pushed  toward  him.  "  Here's  to  the  young  lady 
of  the  axle  grease  and  the  jack,"  he  said,  smiling. 

\ 

"A  la  belle  demoiselle  du  jacque,"  replied 
Burgess,  politely  lifting  his  cup. 

All  the  members  of  the  Hyde  household  gath- 
ered round  the  Hyde  supper-table  that  evening,  — 
Darius  himself,  and  his  two  nieces,  and  Hiram,  the 
hired  man,  and  Mary,  the  hired  girl.  The  other 


32  THE   LODESTAR 

farm  hand  whom  Darius  regularly  employed  lived 
and  took  his  meals  elsewhere. 

Darius  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table.  He  was  a 
mild-mannered  old  man  of  no  radical  characteristic 
except  a  dislike  of  the  radical,  always  gently  con- 
ciliatory, viewing  the  world  through  kind  but 
rather  weak  eyes,  doing  his  duty  as  he  saw  it,  but 
not  seeing  it  very  clearly.  He  was  quite  thin  and 
seemed  oddly  shrunken  by  his  sixty-five  years  of 
incessant  toil,  and  under  his  gray  beard  you  could 
see  the  flabby  folds  of  dry,  yellow  skin  around  the 
lower  part  of  his  throat ;  his  skin  and  his  wearing 
apparel  seemed  much  too  large  for  him.  He  had 
one  single  gesture  of  which  he  made  frequent  use, 
—  a  curious  passing  of  his  hand  across  his  fore- 
head ;  one  could  not  tell  whether  it  was  an  invol- 
untary motion  denoting  a  tacit  subservience  to 
something  stronger  than  himself  or  whether  he 
suffered  from  purely  physical  causes.  His  hands 
and  his  mentality  trembled  a  little. 

Opposite  him  sat  his  elder  niece,  Miss  Elizabeth, 
halfway  along  the  evolution  of  an  old  maid, 
always  a  maiden  but  not  yet  a  spinster,  as  one 
roughly  considers.  Her  age  was  an  indefinite  sus- 
picion of  thirty  ;  the  two  children  between  her  and 
Eleanor  were  dead.  To  Eleanor  she  took  not  the 
least  resemblance,  —  her  hair  and  eyes  were  black, 


THE  LODESTAR  33 

she  was  tall  and  awkward  and  sharply  angular,  and 
her  dress  and  her  features  were  both  of  them 
severe.  Her  opinions  were  definite  and  vigorous, 
and  usually  correct;  Miss  Elizabeth  was  credited  by 
the  local  community  with  lashings  of  horse-sense. 

Hiram,  the  hired  man,  sat  on  one  side  of  the  table, 
and  by  an  overwhelming  attention  to  his  victuals 
made  up  excusably  for  what  he  lacked  in  conversa- 
tional contribution  or  grace  of  manner.  Eleanor 
sat  on  the  other  side,  and  with  her  sat  Mary,  the 
hired  girl,  who  kept  continually  getting  up  to  regu- 
late the  course  of  the  meal.  The  house  possessed 
a  dining  room,  but  Darius  and  his  followers  ate  in 
the  kitchen  by  custom,  convenience,  and  choice. 
Most  of  the  dialogue  was  crossed  over  the  hired 
girl  between  Miss  Elizabeth  and  her  younger 
sister ;  Hiram's  maxillary  gymnastics  occupied  his 
whole  attention ;  the  opinions  of  old  Darius  were 
limited  both  in  scope  and  in  interest;  Mary  was  by 
no  means  reticent,  —  she  could  have  gushed  with 
small  talk,  the  smaller  the  better,  —  but  her  official 
duties  interrupted  the  sequence  of  her  remarks  to 
a  discouraging  extent. 

The  subject  of  compelling  attention  at  this  meal 
was  the  funeral  which  Hiram  had  attended  that 
afternoon.  The  deceased  had  been  employed  by 
a  neighbor,  and  Mary  was  greatly  absorbed  in  the 


34  THE   LODESTAR 

details  of  the  obsequies.  She  wanted  to  know 
what  the  minister  said,  how  the  corpse  looked, 
whether  its  relatives  were  present,  who  was  chief 
mourner,  how  many  were  there,  who  wept  and 
what  they  wore,  and  every  telling  incident  through- 
out the  conduct  of  the  whole  painful  affair.  At 
last  Eleanor  slid  into  the  conversation  through  an 
aperture  of  silence. 

"There  were  two  young  men  here  this  after- 
noon," she  remarked  carelessly. 

Her  casually  delivered  announcement  met  an 
instant  interest.  Visitors  to  the  Hyde  farm  were 
infrequent  at  best;  the  age,  sex,  and  number  in 
this  case  made  it  one  of  particular  attention.  Miss 
Elizabeth  had  by  no  means  reached  the  place 
where  romance  took  a  place  in  the  background  of 
her  affairs  ;  Mary  and  Hiram  were  curious  ;  even 
Darius  raised  his  mild  old  eyes  from  his  plate  with 
a  show  of  concern. 

"  Tryin'  to  sell  su'thin'  ?  "  he  inquired,  jerking 
Miss  Elizabeth  rudely  back  into  the  paths  of  the 
practical. 

"  No,"  said  Eleanor,  and  her  sister  was  reassured 
into  mounting  query. 

"Give  me  s'more  beans,  please,"  said  Hiram, 
stonily  ignoring  the  possibility  of  romance.  His 
request  broke  the  chain  for  Mary,  who  pushed 


THE   LODESTAR  35 

back  her  wooden  chair  from  the  table  and  went 
over  to  the  stove. 

"  What  did  they  want  ?  "  asked  Miss  Elizabeth. 

"  Guess  I'll  hev  a  few  more  beans,  too,"  said  her 
uncle,  pushing  his  plate  forward. 

"  Their  buggy  had  a  hot  box  and  they  stopped 
to  fix  it,"  Eleanor  replied.  "  It  was  something 
they  had  hired  in  town." 

"  Prob'bly  from  Jenkins  —  he's  got  rotten,  rigs," 
was  Hiram's  comment. 

"  Strangers,  hey  ? "  said  Darius,  dipping  his 
bread  in  his  cup  of  tea. 

"  Were  they  nice  looking  ? "  Miss  Elizabeth 
inquired. 

"  Yes  —  rather  nice.     They  were  city  men." 

"  Really  ?  I  wonder  what  they  were  doing  up 
here  so  early  in  the  season,"  the  older  girl  went  on. 

"  P'raps  they  were  lookin'  f'r  a  place  f'r  their 
fam'lies  to  spend  th'  summer,"  Mary  suggested. 

Eleanor  smiled  slightly  and  looked  thoughtfully 
down  at  the  hemmed  edge  of  the  rough  table-cloth, 
which  shone  very  white  in  the  lamplight. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  so,"  she  said. 

"  More  beans,  please,"  interposed  Hiram. 

"  Why  not  ?  What  were  they  like  ? "  Miss 
Elizabeth  interrogated. 

The  girl  wisely  ignored  the  first  question. 


36  THE   LODESTAR 

"They  were  rather  .pleasant.  I  think  they 
tried  to  be  agreeable.  They  talked  a  good  deal 
of  nonsense,"  she  responded. 

"  Talked  nonsense,  hey  ?  What  do  you  mean 
by  that?  "  inquired  her  uncle.  Old  and  forceless 
as  he  was,  he  was  alert  to  resent,  constructively  at 
least,  any  familiarity  toward  his  young  relative. 

"Why,  they  just  talked  nonsense  —  that  was 
all,"  Eleanor  replied.  Evidently  she  saw  no 
ground  for  offence,  and  Darius,  dimly  realizing 
that  he  did  not  understand,  was  mollified,  his 
swift  suspicions  slowly  lapsing. 

"  Did  they  talk  nonsense  well  ?  "  asked  the  older 
girl. 

"  Yes,  I  think  they  did,"  her  sister  answered. 

"Then  they  were  probably  very  clever.  Only 
very  clever  people  can  talk  nonsense  well,"  was 
the  sage  comment  of  Miss  Elizabeth. 

Her  uncle,  the  hired  girl,  and  the  hired  man 
received  this  statement  in  silence.  It  was  beyond 
the  scope  of  their  comments  or  arguments.  For 
all  her  common  sense  Miss  Elizabeth  occasionally 
advanced  strange  theories.  Hiram  pushed  back 
his  chair  and  began  to  fill  a  large  pipe  from  a 
well-worn  bag  of  tobacco. 

"Did  they  get  their  buggy  fixed  up?"  asked 
practical  Darius,  slowly  eating  prunes. 


THE  LODESTAR  37 

"  Did  you  find  out  their  names  ? "  Miss  Elizabeth 
inquired. 

"  Yes,  they  fixed  it  up.  One  of  them  was 
named  Burgess,"  said  Eleanor,  "  and  the  other 
was  a  Hamilton  King." 

"  Hamilton  King  ?  Why,  he's  the  novelist.  I 
just  read  in  the  Recorder  that  he  was  staying  at 
the  inn.  No  wonder  you  thought  he  was  very 
clever,"  said  Miss  Elizabeth. 

"  I  never  said  I  thought  he  was  very  clever," 
her  sister  retorted  with  a  touch  of  asperity.  "  I 
merely  said  that  he  talked  nonsense  —  pretty  well. 
Not  any  better  than  his  friend.  Is  he  a  novelist  ? 
I  never  heard  of  him.  What  did  he  write  ? " 

"Why,  he  wrote  Gray  Stars  and  The  Fourth 
Favorite." 

"  I  never  heard  of  either  of  them,"  said  the 
girl,  decidedly.  She  folded  her  napkin  and  put 
it  into  the  ivory  ring  which  bore  her  initials. 
Hiram  had  gone  outside  on  the  porch,  and  was 
blowing  clouds  of  smoke  into  the  air,  his  chair 
tipped  back  against  the  window.  Under  the  sit- 
ting-room lamp  old  Darius  was  reading  the 
before-mentioned  Burnham  Recorder  through 
thick-rimmed  spectacles.  Mary,  the  hired  girl, 
was  commencing  to  wash  the  supper  dishes  at 
the  sink. 


38  THE   LODESTAR 

"  Are  they  any  good  ? "  asked  Eleanor,  indiffer- 
ently. 

"  A  lot  of  people  seem  to  like  them  —  I  believe 
they  are  quite  popular,"  Miss  Elizabeth  replied. 
"  They  don't  really  amount  to  much,  but  the  girls 
are  very  attractive  and  the  men  are  strong  and 
clean  and  nice.  And  both  the  books  I  saw  —  I 
suppose  he's  written  others  —  had  pretty  covers  ; 
that  counts  a  lot,  I  should  think." 

"  Yes,  I  should  think  so.  I  don't  know  but 
what  I  liked  Mr.  Burgess  better,"  her  sister  re- 
marked thoughtfully.  Hiram,  having  finished  his 
pipe,  came  in  and  took  his  hat  from  the  peg,  and 
went  out  the  side  door.  The  death  of  the  sunset 
was  faintly  crimsoning  the  lowest  west  against 
rising  clouds.  He  shut  the  door  behind  him  and 
went  up  toward  the  barn. 

"  Mr.  Burgess  knew  the  Brinton  girl  I  met  at 
school,"  Eleanor  continued. 

"The  one  you  used  to  tell  us  about  —  whose 
folks  were  so  enormously  rich?" 

"  Yes,  the  same  one.  They're  coming  to  Burn- 
ham  this  summer." 

"  You  don't  say  so  ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Elizabeth. 
"  Isn't  that  fine  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  the  younger  sister  re- 
sponded diffidently.  "  May  Brinton  was  quite 


THE   LODESTAR  39 

pleasant  on  slight  acquaintance,  but  I  scarcely 
knew  her.  I  doubt  whether  she'll  remember  me 
here."  She  paused  a  moment.  "  Mr.  Burgess 
said  he  was  going  to  tell  her  that  he'd  seen 
me."  She  gave  a  little  laugh,  half  wistful,  half 
sceptical. 

Old  Darius  had  gone  fast  asleep  under  the 
shining  lamp,  his  gray-bearded  chin  fallen  down 
among  the  loose  folds  of  yellowy  skin  at  the 
bottom  of  his  throat,  his  wrinkled  eyelids  tight 
shut  behind  his  heavily  rimmed  spectacles,  the 
Burnham  Recorder  lying  in  his  lap.  Mary,  the 
hired  girl,  was  moving  noisily  about  in  the  wood- 
shed. Outside,  yellow  moonlight  had  begun  to 
spill  through  a  windy  sky  of  drifting  scud.  The 
sound  of  the  hurrying  brook  came  very  faintly 
up  through  the  orchard  from  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

In  the  office  of  the  Burnham  Inn,  King  and 
Burgess  sat  before  a  cheerful,  crackling  fire  of  oak 
and  hickory  logs.  The  small  cups  of  coffee  which 
they  had  just  finished  drinking  stood  on  a  table 
beside  them.  Burgess  was  smoking  a  cigar ;  King 
affected  a  corn-cob  pipe  —  he  claimed  that  it  put 
him  more  thoroughly  in  sympathy  with  the  rural 
point  of  view. 

"  But  you  ought  to  take  off  that  dinner  coat  and 


40  THE   LODESTAR 

put  on  blue  overalls,"  Burgess  protested.  "Be 
consistent,  man." 

"  In  the  first  place  I  don't  pretend  to  be  consist- 
ent," King  retorted,  "and  in  the  second  place  I 
don't  believe  you  know  what  overalls  are,  else  you 
would  understand  that  under  no  conceivable  con- 
ditions can  they  adequately  supply  the  place  of  a 
dinner  coat  —  or  any  other  kind  of  coat  that  I've 
ever  seen." 

"  Oh,  shut  up !  "  said  Burgess. 

Arkwright,  the  proprietor  of  the  establishment, 
was  sitting  behind  the  desk  making  up  his 
accounts. 

"  Do  either  o'  you  gentlemen  know  a  Mr.  John 
S.  Brinton?"  he  inquired,  looking  over  at  them. 
"  He's  comin'  here  on  the  train  from  New  York  — 
ought  to  be  here  now.  F'r  a  man  who's  supposed 
to  have  a  pile  o'  money  I  must  say  he  don't  seem 
to  have  much  gumption.  Sent  me  word  that  I 
needn't  get  up  any  dinner  f 'r  him  —  said  he'd  get 
his  dinner  on  th'  car.  On  th'  car !  Wonder  'f  he 
thinks  they  run  the  Shecargo  Ves^'buled  Limited 
over  this  one-hoss  road,"  said  Arkwright,  laugh- 
ing heartily. 

"He  means  his  private  car,"  said  Burgess,  taking 
the  cigar  out  of  his  mouth. 

It  took  a  number  of  seconds  for  this  explanation 


THE   LODESTAR  41 

to  eat  its  way  into  the  deliberate  mental  apparatus 
of  the  country  hotel  keeper,  but  its  effect  was 
impressive. 

"  My  Lord !  "  said  Arkwright,  entirely  taken 
aback.  "  His  private  car ! "  He  sat  for  some 
moments  in  deep  silence.  "  I'll  sure  have  to 
get  down  to  th'  deepo  to-morra'  mornin'  and 
have  a  squint  at  the  darn  thing."  He  was  lost 
in  meditation,  scratching  his  ear  softly  with  his 
pencil. 

"  Yes,  I  know  him,"  Burgess  answered  the  first 
question.  He  turned  around  from  the  fire  and  put 
a  question  in  return. 

"Do  you  know  some  people  named  Hyde  that 
live  a  few  miles  west  of  here  ? " 

"  On  the  road  to  Perkins  Mills  ?  —  where  it  turns 
north'ard  up  the  hill — 'bout  three  miles  out?" 
inquired  Arkwright. 

"  Yes,  that's  the  place.  Who  are  they  ? "  Bur- 
gess queried. 

"There's  old  man  Hyde  and  his  two  nieces," 
the  hotel  keeper  answered.  "  He's  got  quite  a 
farm  there  —  mostly  pasture  land.  I  b'lieve  he's 
got  some  sort  o'  contract  with  th'  dairy  comp'ny 
here  —  sells  'em  all  his  milk.  He's  a  nice  man, 
but  he's  getting  pretty  old,  and  he  ain't  very 
smart  any  more." 


42  THE   LODESTAR 

"You  say  his  nieces  live  with  him?"  Burgess 
asked. 

"  Yes.  Their  father,  —  old  Darius's  younger 
brother  that  was  —  hed  all  th'  brains  o'  the  family, 
but  he  warn't  a  practical  man  —  he  was  allus  flum- 
muxin'  'round  with  darn-fool  inventions  'nd  such. 
'Nd  when  he  died,  he  didn't  have  hardly  any  thin' 
left  but  these  two  girls  —  they've  lived  with  their 
uncle  ever  since." 

.  "  How  old  are  they  ?  "  was  the  next  question  of 
Burgess. 

"  Lemme  see.  Elizabeth's  gettin'  on  now  —  I 
wouldn't  like  to  say  how  old  she  might  be.  But  I 
guess  Eleanor's  nineteen  or  twenty.  They're  both 
well  eddicated  ;  Eleanor's  been  away  to  school  — 
some  swell  place  run  by  a  fellow  that  was  an  old 
friend  of  her  father's.  I  reckon  he  took  her  on 
that  account.  A  lot  o'  folks  'round  here  thought 
it  was  darn  foolishness  f'r  Darius  to  let  her  waste 
her  time  learnin'  a  lot  of  expensive  flummery,  but 
I  guess  it  didn't  hurt  her  none  —  she's  a  nice  girl. 
And  pretty,  too." 

King  and  Burgess  exchanged  glances.  This 
explained  Allingwood. 

"  Is  Mr.  Hyde  well  off  ?  "  King  inquired. 

"  Oh,  I  s'pose  he's  fairly  well  fixed,"  the  inn- 
keeper responded.  "I  guess  he  makes  a  fairly 


THE   LODESTAR  43 

good  thing  out  of  his  farm,  'nd  I  guess  he's  got  a 
little  somethin'  over  besides  —  not  very  much,  but 
enough  f'r  a  rainy  day,  you  know." 

King  was  thinking  that  the  presence  of  Eleanor 
Hyde  might  readily  tend  to  make  an  uncle  who 
was  in  the  least  appreciative  somewhat  optimistic 
regarding  weather  probabilities,  when  the  door  of 
the  inn  opened.  A  middle-aged  gentleman,  with  a 
rather  ruddy  face,  a  short,  stiff,  brown  mustache, 
and  very  keen  and  active  eyes,  entered  the  room. 
He  wore  a  black  felt  hat  and  a  very  loose,  light- 
colored,  belted  overcoat.  He  was  followed  by  a 
young  man,  evidently  of  the  locality,  who  carried 
•a  large  valise. 

"  All  right,  John,"  said  the  new  arrival  to  his 
baggage  bearer.  "  Set  it  down."  He  produced 
from  a  pocket  a  coin  and  handed  it  to  the  young 
man  with  an  adroitness  which  immediately  showed 
him  to  be  a  person  of  much  experience  upon  that 
especial  gesture.  "  That'll  do,"  he  said,  and  the 
young  man,  evidently  of  the  locality,  awkwardly 
departed.  Burgess  had  gotten  up  and  crossed  the 
room. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Brinton,"  he  said. 

The  man  in  the  baggy  overcoat  turned  quickly 
around.  His  keen,  restless  eyes,  which  looked 
much  younger  than  the  rest  of  him,  lighted  up. 


44  THE   LODESTAR 

"  Why,  hello,  Burgess !  "  he  exclaimed  heartily. 
"  Delighted  to  see  you.  I  thought  at  first  you 
were  one  of  those  cursed  reporters.  There  was 
an  interesting  little  mix-up  in  the  A  and  F 
directorate  yesterday,  and  they've  hounded  me  all 
day  to  find  out  what  was  doing.  How  do  you 
happen  to  be  here?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  just  wandering  around  with  Hamilton 
King.  This  is  my  friend  Mr.  King,  Mr.  Brinton. 
And  we  stopped  in  here  for  a  few  days.  It's  very 
quiet  —  no  one's  arrived  yet." 

"Quiet,  is  it?  Well,  we'll  fix  all  that  a  little 
later  on,"  said  the  man  in  the  slouch  hat,  laughing 
and  shaking  hands  with  the  novelist.  He  turned 
to  the  interested  Arkwright,  who  stood  behind 
the  desk.  "  You  got  my  letter,  proprietor  ? "  he 
asked. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Brinton,"  the  innkeeper  replied  with 
the  respect  due  the  man  who  paid.  "  Your  rooms 
are  all  ready  for  you."  He  pushed  the  register 
toward  his  guest,  who  signed  his  name  in  a  firm, 
rapid  hand  with  a  whisking  flourish  at  the  end. 

"The  faster  you  write  the  harder  it  is  for  the 
crooks  to  forge  your  signature,"  he  explained  to 
the  fascinated  Arkwright,  who  had  commented 
upon  the  speed  with  which  the  pen  had  travelled 
across  the  page. 


THE   LODESTAR  45 

The  proprietor  now  rang  three  sharp  strokes  on 
a  large  bell,  and  a  porter  appeared. 

"  Sam,  take  this  bag  to  number  seven.  You've 
had  your  dinner,  Mr.  Brinton  ? "  he  inquired  solici- 
tously. 

"  Yes."  He  turned  to  the  young  men.  "  I  had 
company.  Great  fun  !  The  train  was  an  hour 
late  —  it  always  is  on  this  road  -•-  and  there  was  a 
gentleman  and  his  wife  on  board  that  I  got  talking 
to.  It  seemed  they  were  afraid  they  wouldn't  have 
time  for  supper  and  then  get  to  some  Methodist 
fair,  so  I  had  'em  both  into  the  car  to  dinner. 
And  what's  more,  I  sent  my  three  colored  men  — 
the  crew  of  the  car,  you  know  —  along  to  the  fair, 
besides.  They  can  sing  pretty  well,  and  they're 
regular  wonders  at  buck-and-wing  dancing.  I  told 
them  to  get  good  and  busy,  and  I  shouldn't  be  sur- 
prised if  they  livened  the  fair  up  considerably." 

The  idea  of  the  three  dusky  servitors  of  Mr. 
Brinton's  private  car  suddenly  casting  themselves 
upon  a  peaceful  gathering  of  inflexible  Connecti- 
cut Methodists,  under  orders  to  buck-and-wing  the 
assemblage  into  an  attitude  of  responsive  geniality 
struck  King  and  Burgess  as  one  of  the  most  ex- 
traordinary things  of  which  they  had  ever  heard. 
They  could  dimly  fancy  the  situation  which  must 
necessarily  ensue,  —  the  grinning  black  men  roar- 


46  THE   LODESTAR 

ing  their  syncopations  and  shuffling  with  loose 
vigor  before  the  audience  of  astonished  religious 
rustics.  The  innocent  couple,  whom  chance  had 
cast  into  Mr.  Brinton's  hospitable  Pullman  and 
who  had  indirectly  precipitated  the  unsought  enter- 
tainment, would  probably  be  excommunicated  from 
the  congregation  at  a  special  meeting  called  for 
the  very  purpose  early  the  next  morning.  The 
negroes,  by  strict  and  express  command  of  their 
master,  would  doubtless  inflict  their  uproarious 
antics  with  no  regard  whatsoever  to  the  desire  of 
their  auditors  and  observers;  King  and  Burgess 
only  hoped  that  they  would  restrain  themselves  as 
much  as  possible. 

"  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  they  livened  their 
old  prayer-meeting-auction  —  or  whatever  it  is  — 
up  considerably,"  repeated  the  entertainment  con- 
tributor, pleased  at  the  consciousness  of   having 
done  a  good  deed. 

"  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  at  all,"  King  agreed 
politely. 

"We  might  all  drop  in  a  little  later  on,"  sug- 
gested the  cheerful  Mr.  Brinton. 

Burgess  reflected  that  their  timely  arrival  might 
be  the  means  of  saving  the  lives  of  three  more  or 
less  innocent  and  entirely  well-meaning  black  men, 
but  King  declined  to  take  the  chance. 


THE   LODESTAR  47 

"  I  don't  think  I'll  go,"  he  said.  "You  see,  if  I 
appeared  at  a  country  Methodist  fair  in  a  dinner 
coat,  the  people  there  would  think  I  was  trying  to 
come  it  over  them,  and  I'm  too  tired  to  change  my 
clothes." 

"  We  couldn't  hope  to  compete  with  your  chain 
gang  —  I  should  say,  train  gang,"  Burgess  re- 
marked affably. 

Mr.  Brinton  laughed. 

"  Suit  yourselves,  boys,"  he  said.  He  turned  to 
Arkwright.  "  In  the  meantime,  landlord,  if  you 
have  something  down  cellar  that  you've  been  keep- 
ing cool  a  long  time,  we  might  have  a  couple  of 
quarts  elevated  to  the  level  of  this  polished  table 
I  see  before  me.  And  landlord,  put  on  a  glass  for 
yourself." 


Ill 


THE  following  morning  King  awoke  early  and 
set  out  for  a  walk  before  breakfast.  It  had  rained 
during  the  night,  but  day  had  broken  clear  and 
soft,  and  the  first  sunlight  was  touching  the  earth 
with  vernal  warmth.  As  yet,  however,  raindrops 
shone  thick  on  the  turf,  and  trunks  of  trees  were 
black  with  wet  in  the  shadows,  and  shimmering 
pools  of  dark  water  stood  on  the  hard-trodden 
dirt  paths,  and  the  road  was  a  ribbon  of  soft  mud 
between  broad  borders  of  drenched,  brownish 
grass. 

King's  way  led  down  the  main  street  of  Burn- 
ham.  That  main  street  was  always  a  delight  to 
him.  It  ran  along  the  level  crest  of  the  hill,  long 
and  wide  and  straight  from  end  to  end ;  in  the 
centre  was  a  broad  roadway,  then  came  on  each 
side  the  strip  of  grass,  then  the  rows  of  tremendous 
elms  that  towered  aloft  in  the  dignity  of  a  century 
and  over,  beneath  them  the  firm  earth  footpaths, 
and  then  the  high  lines  of  box  hedge  before  the 
trim  house  yards.  And  before  each  yard  a  wooden 

48 


THE   LODESTAR  49 

gate  would  swing  with  a  final  click,  disclosing  a 
box-bounded  path  leading  up  to  the  house  door. 
The  houses,  most  of  which  faced  sideways,  with 
low  gable  ends  and  shingle  roofs  that  slanted  down 
to  the  street,  were  rangy  and  comfortable-looking ; 
they  had  white  sides  and  rough  roofs  and  green 
shutters.  Around  each  front  door  was  always 
some  quaintly  patterned  design  in  leaded  glass, 
and  on  the  door  a  shiny  brass  knocker.  Honey- 
suckles and  wistaria  and  lilacs  and  crimson  ram- 
blers and  morning-glories  were,  in  season,  trimmed 
up  the  shady  porches.  At  one  end  of  the  street 
and  looking  down  its  centre  stood  a  white  wooden 
church,  its  graceful  spire  tapering  loftily  into  the 
blue  sky ;  and  behind  it  was  the  quiet  churchyard, 
where  the  fathers  of  the  village  slept.  Nearer  the 
middle  of  the  town,  where  the  main  street  was 
crossed  by  the  next  important  way,  rose  the  tall 
liberty  pole,  guarded  by  a  circular  picket  fence. 
Though  it  was  yet  quite  early,  people  were  mov- 
ing about,  and  occasionally  a  buggy  or  a  buck- 
board  splashed  lumberingly  along  through  the  mud. 
King  came  back  to  the  inn,  and  stood  for  a 
moment  in  admiration  of  the  beds  of  hyacinths 
and  tulips  and  crocuses  and  yellow  jonquils  which 
Arkwright  had  set  out.  Then  he  went  into  the 
office  and  there  found  Burgess  awaiting  him. 


50  THE   LODESTAR 

"  Good  morning,"  he  said. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  Burgess  replied, 
pointing. 

In  one  corner  of  the  hotel  office  was  stacked  a 
most  extraordinary  collection  of  decorative  and 
useful  merchandise.  There  were  several  sofa 
cushions,  the  most  notable  one  being  bright 
green  and  lavishly  embroidered  with  gold,  and 
there  were  two  rag  rugs  very  neatly  pieced  to- 
gether, and  a  quantity  of  genuine  maple  sugar, 
and  a  fearful  oil  painting  which  showed  three 
stolid  cows  standing  in  an  unnatural  brook  be- 
neath an  impossible  willow  tree,  and  a  small 
cuckoo  clock,  and  three  large  layer-cakes,  and  a 
garish  Japanese  kimono,  and  a  half-dozen  em- 
broidered doilies,  and  a  backgammon  board,  and 
a  stuffed  trout  in  a  glass  case. 

"What  in  the  devil  — "  King  began,  but  the 
other  man  broke  in. 

"  Mr.  Brinton,"  he  managed  to  articulate. 

"  Oh  !  "  King  saw  a  light.  "  He  did  go  to  the 
fair  without  us,  didn't  he  ?  " 

"  Go  to  the  fair  ?  Hasn't  he  brought  most  of  it 
back  with  him  ?  If  Mr.  Brinton  were  a  Methodist, 
he'd  be  in  danger  of  being  made  a  lay  bishop  —  if 
there  is  any  such  thing  —  this  morning." 

"  Perhaps  his  purchases  were  a  sort  of  expiatory 


THE   LODESTAR  51 

offering  for  having  inflicted  his  three  dancing  coons 
on  the  august  assemblage,"  King  suggested. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  The  Nubians  made  a  great 
hit.  And  after  Mr.  Brinton  arrived  he  collected 
four  young  men  who  belonged  to  the  church  choir, 
—  he  has  a  fair  baritone  voice  himself  —  and  along 
with  his  waiters  he  organized  what  he  called  the 
Black  and  White  Octette  to  sing  '  Massa's  in  de 
Cold,  Cold  Ground,'  and '  Down  on  de  Mississippi 
Floating,'  and  all  those  things." 

The  picture  of  the  New  York  capitalist,  stand- 
ing up  with  his  three  colored  servants  and  four 
severe  and  serious-faced  young  Methodists  and 
pouring  forth  impromptu  melody  into  the  ears  of 
the  surprised  gathering  of  country  people,  was  too 
much  for  King,  and  he  sat  down,  laughing  help- 
lessly. 

"  I  guess  he  did  stir  things  up  all  right,  as  he 
said  he  would,"  he  commented.  And  just  then 
the  man  under  discussion  came  briskly  into  the 
room. 

"Hello,  boys,"  he  said,  rubbing  his  hands  to- 
gether. "  Fine  morning,  isn't  it  ? "  He  glanced 
toward  the  astonishing  collection  of  merchandise 
in  the  corner.  "Been  admiring  my  purchases?" 
he  inquired.  "  I  picked  up  some  rare  bargains 
last  night,"  he  said,  winking  solemnly  at  King. 


52  THE   LODESTAR 

"  You  ought  to  have  come  along.     Nice  crowd  — 
a  little  stiff  and  formal  at  first,  but  when  they  were 
convinced  that  I  was  really  all  right,  they  were 
very  agreeable  indeed." 

The  two  young  men  had  little  difficulty  in 
believing  this ;  they  wondered  how  much  the  con- 
viction had  cost  their  friend. 

"You  seem  to  have  bought  quite  extensively, 
Mr.  Brinton,"  King  observed  politely. 

"Oh,  a  few  little  trifles  that  took  my  fancy," 
the  plutocrat  responded  easily.  Just  then  his  eye 
unfortunately  caught  the  painting  of  the  unhappy- 
looking  cattle  anchored  under  the  impossible  wil- 
low in  the  leaden  water.  "  I'm  afraid  I'll  just 
have  to  burn  up  that  infernal  —  I  should  say  eter- 
nal—  masterpiece,"  he  remarked  thoughtfully.  "  I 
really  can't  keep  it  myself ;  the  local  artist's  feel- 
ings would  be  lacerated  unless  I  hung  it,  and  I 
can't  do  that.  And  I  wouldn't  give  it  away  to 
a  cross-eyed  street-cleaner,"  he  added  reflectively. 

His  hearers  agreed  perfectly  with  him  in  his 
estimate  of  the  merits  of  the  piece. 

"  But  here's  a  thing,"  said  Mr.  Brinton,  "  that 
I  really  like."  And  he  pulled  out  the  garish 
kimono  from  under  a  layer-cake.  Its  pattern  was 
a  series  of  yellow  dragons  carrying  in  their  mouths 
bouquets  of  pink  blossoms,  all  this  on  a  purple 


THE   LODESTAR  53 

background.  "  I  thought  of  presenting  that  to 
my  Japanese  butler,  but  on  second  thought  I  be- 
lieve I'll  keep  it  myself." 

Burgess  was  tempted  to  recommend  to  Mr.  Erin- 
ton  the  indulgence  of  an  additional  thought,  the 
result  of  which  would  doubtless  be  that  the  kimono 
would  be  consigned  to  the  same  fiery  and  appro- 
priate fate  as  the  picture  of  the  stolid  cows.  But 
the  proprietor  of  the  garment  under  discussion 
picked  it  up  and  draped  it  rakishly  over  one 
shoulder. 

"  Now,  /  call  that  really  decorative,"  he  said 
with  considerable  satisfaction.  "  And  I  don't 
think  I  ever  saw  anything  quite  like  it  before,"  he 
remarked,  tossing  it  over  the  cuckoo  clock. 

King  and  Burgess  felt  inclined  to  concede  that 
it  was  in  a  way  perfectly  unique.  At  this  point 
the  innkeeper  entered. 

"  Arkwright,"  said  the  plutocrat,  "  have  all  this 
stuff  taken  up  to  my  rooms.  You  can  keep  the 
backgammon  board  yourself  —  I  bought  it  espe- 
cially for  you  and  your  guests,"  he  stated  with  a 
happy  inspiration.  "And  Arkwright,  tell  your 
people  to  be  very  careful  not  to  mix  this  collection 
into  my  ordinary  clothes  and  things.  Now,  is 
breakfast  ready?  Good!"  He  led  the  way  to 
the  dining  room,  King  and  Burgess  following. 


54  THE   LODESTAR 

"I  had  the  very  devil  of  a  time  getting  that 
stuff  back  here  from  the  church,"  he  confessed  to 
his  young  friends.  "  It  was  just  about  all  that 
those  three  fellows  from  the  car  and  I  could  carry. 
And  the  night  was  black  as  the  inside  of  a  black 
cat  —  they  don't  light  the  street  here  after  ten 
o'clock,  it  seems.  I'm  afraid  that  cuckoo  clock  is 
out  of  commission  for  good  —  I  fell  over  a  horse 
block  and  landed  on  it."  He  sat  down,  the  natural 
commander,  at  the  head  of  a  table,  and  the  young 
men  took  their  places  on  either  side  of  him. 

"  I  suppose  I  might  have  left  what  I  bought  to 
be  sold  over  again,"  he  continued ;  "  but  that,  to 
my  thinking,  is  a  poor  idea.  Either  give  them  the 
money  or  take  the  goods  —  to  buy  a  lot  of  stuff 
and  then  not  take  it  is  poor  business  and  poor 
charity,  too,  in  my  opinion.  Pass  the  oranges, 
King." 

During  the  course  of  the  breakfast,  Burgess, 
who  had  thought  the  matter  carefully  over,  deter- 
mined to  take  the  step  upon  which  he  had  been 
meditating.  He  decided  to  mention  the  name  of 
Eleanor  Hyde  to  Mr.  Brinton,  and  follow  up  the 
affair. 

"  While  King  and  I  were  out  driving  yesterday 
we  met  a  school  friend  of  your  daughter's,"  he 
remarked. 


''No\V,    /CALL    THAT    REALLY    DECORATIVE.'  " 


THE   LODESTAR 


55 


"Is  that  so?  Friend  of  May's?  An  Ailing- 
wood  girl?"  asked  the  capitalist. 

"  Miss  Eleanor  Hyde,"  said  Burgess. 

"  Don't  just  now  remember  her  —  I  don't  recall 
May's  saying  anything  about  her.  Has  her  father 
got  a  place  here  ? "  Mr.  Brinton  inquired. 

"  No.  She  lives  with  her  uncle,  who  is  a  farmer 
and  lives  about  three  miles  from  town." 

The  man  at  the  head  of  the  table  looked  up 
from  his  oatmeal. 

"  What's  that  ?  A  farmer's  niece  who  went  to 
Allingwood  ? "  he  said  in  some  surprise. 

Burgess  explained  the  whole  situation  as  the 
hotel  proprietor  had  told  it  to  him. 

"We'll  just  have  to  look  her  up,  I  guess,"  said 
Mr.  Brinton.  The  die  was  cast.  "  You  say  she's 
attractive  ? " 

"  Very,"  said  Burgess,  with  some  warmth. 

"  Extremely,"  replied  King. 

After  breakfast  the  plutocrat  lit  a  long  black 
cigar  and  stood  on  the  piazza,  his  feet  apart,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  his  eyes  half  shut,  and  his 
head  thrown  back  a  little,  drinking  in  the  sun- 
shine of  the  morning.  Burgess  produced  a  ciga- 
rette from  his  case  ;  King,  sitting  on  the  piazza 
railing  with  his  cap  pulled  over  his  eyes,  went 
back  to  his  corn-cob.  Mr.  Brinton  was  apprecia- 


56  THE   LODESTAR 

tively  silent  as  long  a  time  as  his  nature  ever  per- 
mitted him  to  be.  Finally  he  wrenched  himself 
loose  from  the  charm  of  the  sunlight. 

"  Have  you  chaps  anything  to  do  this  morn- 
ing ? "  he  asked. 

The  inquiry  met  two  negatives. 

"  Well,  how  would  you  like  to  go  and  look  over 
the  place  I've  hired  ? "  said  the  magnate.  "  I'm 
going  to  have  a  few  things  done  to  it  and  a  few 
changes  made,  and  I'd  be  glad  of  your  advice." 

The  young  men  expressed  their  entire  willing- 
ness to  donate  it 

"  Good !  I  ordered  a  two-seated  buckboard  and 
a  team  —  that'll  just  hold  us.  It  ought  to  be  here 
in  four  minutes,"  said  Mr.  Brinton,  glancing  at  the 
elaborate  stop-watch  which  he  affected,  and  he 
went  to  get  his  overcoat. 

"  Isn't  he  a  wonder  ?  "  said  Burgess  to  King,  in 
frank  admiration.  "  Did  you  ever  see  any  one  who 
got  action  out  of  things  faster  than  John  S.  ?  " 

"He  certainly  is,"  King  replied  with  feeling. 
"  That  idea  of  his  in  sending  on  his  three  double- 
shuffling  waiters  as  an  advance-guard  to  hold  the 
attention  of  the  crowd  until  he  himself  could  sail 
in  at  the  psychological  moment  and  buy  every- 
thing he  saw  —  well,  it  must  have  astonished  those 
Methodists  some." 


THE  LODESTAR  57 

"  If  he  takes  up  our  friend  Miss  Hyde  with  the 
same  vigor  that  he  showed  toward  the  church  fair 
people,  there's  no  telling  where  she'll  end,"  Burgess 
commented. 

"  Well,  you've  put  it  up  to  him,  all  right,"  said 
the  novelist. 

"  He  can  give  her  the  velocity,  — and  he's  liable 
to,  —  but  she'll  have  to  manage  the  direction  her- 
self," his  friend  returned. 

Mr.  Brinton  came  out,  wearing  the  baggy,  belted 
overcoat.  He  lit  a  fresh  cigar,  and  his  active  eyes 
discerned  the  ordered  buckboard  coming  up  the 
street. 

"  Arkwright,  we'll  none  of  us  be  back  to  lunch ; 
these  gentlemen  will  take  lunch  with  me  on  the 
car,"  he  called  to  the  proprietor.  "  And  if  a  man 
brings  a  coon  in  a  cage,  pay  him  three  dollars  and 
a  half  and  put  it  down  in  your  barn."  He  explained 
to  his  guests.  "  A  man  at  the  fair  offered  to  sell 
me  a  coon  that  he  had  at  home,  and  I  thought  that 
some  night  after  we  moved  up  here  we  could  take 
those  darkies  from  the  car  as  a  nucleus,  and  let 
it  loose  and  have  a  regular  old-fashioned  coon 
hunt."  Evidently  Mr.  Brinton's  purchases  had  not 
been  confined  to  articles  actually  displayed  before 
him. 

"  Those  three  men  on  your  car  must  be  simply 


58  THE   LODESTAR 

invaluable  to  you,"  King  ventured.  "  Have  you 
had  them  long  ? " 

"  Ever  since  I  made  my  money,"  said  John  S. 
Brinton,  simply  and  cheerfully.  "  That  is  to  say, 
since  I  made  enough  to  keep  a  car  in  commission 
all  the  time.  Yes,  I've  got  those  three  trained  to 
be  pretty  useful.  The  cook's  a  first-class  cross- 
country rider  and  makes  an  excellent  groom  for 
my  daughter,  and  they're  all  of  them  good  caddies 
when  we  strike  a  golf  links,  and  Billy  the  waiter 
can  get  up  in  a  canoe  as  close  to  a  deer  as  any 
guide  I  ever  saw.  He's  a  pretty  good  barber  and 
chauffeur  and  a  fair  ventriloquist,  too.  And  of 
course  at  cake-walking  and  that  sort  of  thing 
they're  past  masters.  Yes,  they're  pretty  talented, 
those  chaps ;  I  think  a  lot  of  them.  And  here's 
the  buckboard." 

This  vehicle,  pulled  by  a  stocky  team  of  country 
bays  with  shaggy  fetlocks,  drove  up  to  the  hotel 
steps. 

"Get  up  in  front,  Burgess,"  said  Mr.  Brinton. 
"  King,  jump  in  behind  with  me.  Driver,  go  up 
to  the  Robertson  place."  The  buckboard  moved 
out  the  curving  driveway  and  up  the  muddy 
street. 

The  Robertson  place,  which  the  New  Yorker 
had  leased  for  the  season,  was  the  exhibition 


THE   LODESTAR  59 

estate  of  Burnham.  Mr.  Robertson  was  an  enter- 
prising gentleman  of  some  capital  and  vast  assur- 
ance, who  had  gone  down  from  his  native  village 
of  Burnham  into  the  city,  and  there,  by  an  odd 
combination  of  recklessness,  sagacity,  and  the 
most  extraordinary  good  luck,  had  for  several 
years  furnished  to  the  hospitable  metropolitans 
an  ever  entertaining  demonstration  of  how  a  for- 
tune may  be  doubled  over  night.  But  one  day  an 
unhappy  inability  to  deliver  a  number  of  thousand 
shares  of  a  certain  stock,  which  he  had  inadver- 
tently sold  short,  had  resulted  in  his  stepping  up 
and  leaving  a  large  portion  of  his  fortune  in  the 
hands  of  the  astute  gentlemen  who  had  watched 
his  tumultuous  ascent  with  considerable  interest 
and  waited  with  cynical  patience  for  just  such  an 
opportunity  to  present  itself.  And  the  spectacular 
estate,  which  the  fortune-tossed  Robertson  had 
established  in  the  double  purpose  of  his  own 
enjoyment  and  of  impressing  his  old  fellow-towns- 
men, he  had  been  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  lease 
to  Mr.  Brinton. 

The  buckboard  drove  in  between  two  handsome 
stone  gateposts  and  up  a  driveway  of  crushed 
bluestone  which  looked  like  the  roadbed  of  a  first- 
rate  railway  before  the  tracks  and  ties  had  been 
laid.  The  driveway  was  fringed  by  dogwoods  in 


60  THE   LODESTAR 

white  blossom.  The  prospective  tenant  drew  out 
a  note-book  and  a  pencil. 

"  I  want  flower  beds  on  both  sides  of  the  drive 
all  the  way  up  to  the  house,"  said  Mr.  Brinton. 
"  Geraniums  —  good  red  ones  —  maybe  they're 
out  of  fashion,  but  I  like  'em ;  they're  hardy  and 
they're  cheerful,  too  ;  none  of  your  pale  mauve 
orchids  for  me.  Now  what  do  you  think  of  the 
color  of  the  house  ? " 

The  two  young  men  saw  no  particular  objection 
to  it. 

% 

"  I  don't  care  much  for  that  color,  myself,"  said 
the  commander,  regarding  it  critically.  "  I  think 
that  a  gray  like  that  one  is  pretty  sad,  myself. 
But  perhaps  it  wouldn't  really  be  worth  while  to 
change  it  for  one  season.  Fresh  paint  always 
smells,  and  besides,  this  Robertson  fellow  might 
not  like  the  new  color  I  put  on,  and  I'd  have  to 
go  to  the  trouble  of  painting  it  over  again  in  the 
fall  when  I  left.  I  guess  I'll  just  leave  it  the 
way  it  is." 

His  guests  commended  his  conservatism. 

"  Oh,  I  want  a  lot  of  colored  electric  lights  on 
the  piazzas,"  Mr.  Brinton  remembered.  "  I 
mustn't  forget  that."  The  caretaker  appeared 
from  around  a  corner.  "  Here's  the  fellow  to 
show  us  through,  I  guess.  Hop  out,  boys." 


THE   LODESTAR  6l 

They  all  dismounted  from  the  buckboard  and 
entered  the  house. 

Mr.  Robertson,  when  he  built,  had  evidently 
put  an  indefinitely  extensive  roll  of  his  paper 
profits  at  the  disposal  of  some  eminent  architect 
and  decorator  and  furnisher,  for  the  place  was 
done  in  the  most  elaborate  good  taste ;  but  in 
almost  every  room  the  new  tenant  saw  some  detail 
to  be  changed,  some  omission  to  be  remedied.  He 
commented  most  adversely  on  the  size  and  the 
lack  of  illumination,  in  the  swimming  pool,  and 
over  the  limited  area  of  the  wine-cellar  his  dis- 
satisfaction rose  almost  to  the  level  of  genuine 
anger. 

"  My  architect  had  his  way  on  my  city  house, 
but  I  know  a  few  things  about  country  houses,  and 
I'm  going  to  have  my  way  in  the  few  little  changes 
I  make  here.  Now  look  at  that  skimpy  little 
closet !  Call  that  a  wine-cellar  ? "  he  commented 
scornfully.  "They  ought  to  have  put  a  sign  on 
it  — '  For  Medicinal  Purposes  Only  '  —  that's 
about  the  size  of  it.  Well,  fortunately  there's 
lots  of  room  underground ;  one's  seldom  re- 
stricted in  making  a  country  cellar — I  can  dig 
it  out  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  if  I  please."  Nu- 
merous items  were  jotted  down  in  the  note-book 
as  they  journeyed  through  the  establishment. 


62  THE   LODESTAR 

Under  the  guidance  of  the  bewildered  caretaker, 
who  had  not  hazarded  a  suggestion  since  his  very 
first  remark  in  difference  with  one  of  Mr.  Brinton's 
remarkable  plans  had  met  the  rebuff  of  a  contemp- 
tuous and  icy  ignorement,  they  visited  the  outbuild- 
ings. That  structure  which  contained  a  bowling 
alley,  a  squash  court,  and  shower  baths  met  almost 
the  first  unqualified  approbation  of  the  prospective 
proprietor. 

"  Now  this  is  really  something  like  it,"  he  said 
with  marked  favor.  "This  Robertson  fellow 
actually  seemed  to  have  some  sense,  after  all, 
although  I  suppose  when  he  built  this  place  he 
was  so  busy  making  money  he  hadn't  time  to 
spend  it  intelligently.  That's  the  way  with  a  lot 
of  people.  But  this  shower-bath  arrangement 
here  is  just  fine ;  it's  a  wonder  he  didn't  put  more 
of  them  in  the  house.  I  suppose  he  must  have 
expected  about  half  his  guests  to  crawl  down 
the  back  stairs  in  bathrobes  and  clean  up  in  the 
swimming  pool." 

Then  they  went  through  the  stable  and  the 
carriage  house. 

"  You  won't  have  room  for  all  your  automobiles 
here,  will  you,  Mr.  Brinton  ?  "  inquired  Burgess. 

"  Oh,  lord,  no  !  "  responded  the  commander. 
"  I've  hired  the  old  Town  Hall  for  a  garage." 


THE   LODESTAR  63 

They  came  back  to  the  buckboard,  which  still 
stood  under  the  porte-cochere,  the  driver  sitting 
with  one  leg  across  the  other,  flicking  aimlessly 
with  his  whip  over  the  snowy  blossoms  of  a  dog- 
wood. Mr.  Brinton  pulled  out  his  elaborate  watch. 

"  Eight  minutes  past  eleven,"  said  he.  "  We'll 
have  time  to  drive  around  and  see  a  little  of  the 
country  before  lunch."  An  inspiration  came  to 
him.  "  Say,"  he  proposed,  "  we  might  go  and  call 
on  that  friend  of  my  daughter's  that  you  were  tell- 
ing me  about,  Burgess.  There's  nothing  like 
having  an  objective  point  of  some  sort  to  put  the 
element  of  interest  into  a  trip.  How  far  off  did 
you  say  she  lived  ? " 

"About  three  miles,  I  should  say,"  the  young 
man  replied. 

"Well,  that's  where  we  go,  then,"  said  the  com- 
mander, with  brisk  decision.  "Tell  the  driver 
where  it  is." 

"  You  know  where  Darius  Hyde  lives  ? "  Bur- 
gess asked  the  man  with  the  reins. 

"  Old  feller  that  runs  a  dairy  farm  on  th'  road 
to  Perkins  Mills  —  'bout  halfway  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  the  place." 

They  turned  west  off  the  main  street,  and  the 
team  of  country  bays  began  to  jog  steadily  down 
the  long  muddy  hill.  Practical  Mr.  Brinton  lighted 


64  THE   LODESTAR 

another  black  cigar  that  he  might  the  more  sym- 
pathetically appreciate  the  beauties  of  the  country- 
side. The  swamp  maples  flaring  aflame  on  the 
wood  edges,  the  shad  bushes  with  their  snowy 
clusters  swung  above  the  brook,  the  aureate  touch 
of  the  marsh  marigolds,  the  yellowy  birches  and 
gray-golden  willow  buds  and  purple-tasselled  alders 
—  none  of  these  Brinton  knew,  or  could  have 
known.  The  buckboard  went  splashing  and  grind- 
ing on  along  the  rutted,  stony  road,  and  presently 
it  turned  in  at  the  Hyde  farm. 

At  the  foot  of  the  piazza  steps  the  three  visitors 
alighted.  They  went  up  on  the  piazza  ;  there  was 
no  door-bell  or  knocker,  but  Burgess  rapped 
sharply  on  the  shut  door.  There  was  no  re- 
sponse—  he  rapped  again.  Finally  Mary,  the 
hired  girl,  appeared,  and  from  the  manner  in 
which  she  unswung  the  portal,  it  was  evident  that 
this  means  of  entrance  was  infrequently  affected 
by  comers  to  the  house.  She  stood  in  the  doorway, 
suspicious,  silent,  ill  at  ease. 

"  Is  Miss  Eleanor  Hyde  at  home  ? "  Burgess 
asked  politely. 

Just  then  Mary's  eye  had  caught  Mr.  Brinton's 
baggy,  belted  overcoat.  She  gazed  at  it,  instantly 
fascinated,  answering  the  question  and  yet  quite 
powerless  to  regard  the  questioner. 


THE   LODESTAR  65 

"  I  guess  so  —  I'll  see."  She  went  away,  leav- 
ing the  strangers  standing  on  the  porch,  looking 
into  the  shadowy  front  hall 

Presently  Eleanor  came.  As  she  approached 
them  through  the  dim  doorway  Burgess  and  King 
realized  in  a  flash  that  their  former  measure  of  her 
attractiveness  had  not  been  due  to  a  mere  chance 
of  pose,  a  momentary  grace  of  discovery ;  this 
girl's  charm  was  real  and  convincing  and  enduring. 
With  her  brown  eyes,  a  little  questioning,  again 
seeming  rather  wonderful,  with  her  soft  complexion 
and  smooth  brown  hair,  and  her  straight,  slender,  yet 
strong  young  figure,  and  slim  hands,  and  the  quiet 
ease  of  her  manner — all  in  all,  the  young  men  came 
to  a  rapid  realization  that  their  estimate  had  been, 
if  in  any  error,  too  low.  Mr.  Brinton,  who  had 
more  or  less  skill  in  weighing  the  merits  of  ap- 
pearance, had  drawn  his  conclusions  along  an  inde- 
pendent similar  level.  Meanwhile  the  girl  was 
doubtless  wondering  at  their  so  speedy  return, 
and  perhaps  evidenced  this  in  her  look.  Burgess 
explained. 

"Miss  Hyde,  may  I  present  Mr.  Brinton?"  he 
said.  "  You  remember  we  were  speaking  of  him 
yesterday  afternoon,  and  yesterday  evening  he  quite 
unexpectedly  arrived  in  town." 

"  A   clear   case   of   deus   ex  machina  —  if   Mr. 

F 


66  THE   LODESTAR 

Brinton  had  ridden  into  Burnham  on  the  engine," 
said  King. 

"Just  ran  up  to  look  over  a  place  I've  taken  for 
the  summer.  We  had  a  little  spare  time,  so  we 
drove  out  this  way.  Burgess  tells  me  that  you're 
a  friend  of  my  daughter's,"  the  capitalist  explained 
affably. 

The  girl  frowned  a  little,  almost  unconsciously. 
She  disliked  to  think  that  she  was  extending  her 
acquaintance  on  so  superficial  and  questionable  a 
basis.  As  a  matter  of  fact  the  others  had  forced 
her  into  a  sort  of  constructive  acceptance  of  a 
foundation  upon  which  they  themselves  were 
busily  erecting  a  top-heavy  structure.  Eleanor, 
however,  would  not  unprotestingly  accept  their 
ingeniously  distorted  point  of  view. 

"  I  knew  your  daughter  very  slightly,"  she  said, 
rather  coolly.  Then  it  occurred  to  her  that  her 
disclaimer  of  intimacy  with  Miss  Brinton  might 
be  deemed  an  expression  of  inhospitality  to  the 
strangers.  "  Won't  you  all  come  in  ?  "  she  asked. 

Mr.  Brinton,  having  taken  a  second  careful 
observation  of  his  young  hostess  during  the  brief 
trip  into  the  sitting  room,  chose  to  ignore  com- 
pletely her  disclaimer. 

"May  will  be  delighted  to  know  that  you  are 
to  be  so  near  her,"  he  remarked  cordially. 


THE   LODESTAR  67 

Eleanor  thought  that  Miss  Brinton's  delight 
would  be  highly  unlikely  to  burst  beyond  the 
bounds  of  easy  control. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  meet  her  again,"  she  replied 
evenly.  "Although  I  doubt  whether  she  would 
remember  me,"  she  added,  on  the  verge  of  sin- 
cerity, for  her  acquaintance  with  the  other  girl  had 
really  been  most  casual. 

The  commander  laughed  easily  at  this  sug- 
gestion, tossing  its  possibility  lightly  aside. 

"  I  guess  there's  no  danger  of  that,"  he  said. 
"  Why,  you  were  at  Allingwood  together,  weren't 
you?" 

"  For  a  little  while,"  Eleanor  admitted.  "  Your 
daughter  left  school  a  few  months  after  I  entered," 
she  explained.^ 

"  May  thinks  a  great  deal  of  Allingwood.  She's 
always  glad  to  see  an  old  Allingwood  girl  any- 
where," the  father  of  the  young  lady  declared. 

Eleanor  reflected  that  Miss  Brinton  during  her 
school  days  had  manifested  no  tumultuous  enthu- 
siasm toward  her  companions  —  in  fact  she  re- 
membered her  chiefly  as  a  rather  haughty  girl, 
expensively  dressed,  possessing  an  apparently 
inexhaustible  supply  of  money  and  mixed  choco- 
lates—  a  forbidden  delicacy  —  and  confining  her 
confidences  and  intimacies  to  three  or  four  other 


68  THE  LODESTAR 

girls  of  her  own  sort  and  set.  Still,  under  Miss 
Brinton's  exclusive  manner  might  have  smouldered 
a  genuine  democratic  spirit  of  school  loyalty, 
which  had  fully  developed  only  after  departure; 
Eleanor  was  charitably  willing  to  believe  that  this 
might  have  been  the  case. 

"It's  very  nice  in  her  to  feel  that  way,"  she 
said. 

The  genial  capitalist  in  his  endeavor  to  pro- 
mote the  acquaintance  along  this  line  now  over- 
shot the  mark  a  trifle. 

"I  think  I've  heard  May  speak  of  you,  Miss 
Hyde,"  he  ventured. 

This  was  a  complete  falsehood  and  so  highly 
improbable  a  one  that  the  girl  looked  at  him  with 
some  surprise  at  his  temerity  in  putting  it  out. 
It. was  Mr.  Brinton's  first  false  step  in  contriving 
to  fasten  upon  her  an  intimacy  which  he  chose 
to  insist  had  existed  between  her  and  his  daughter. 
Her  very  modesty  and  lack  of  worldly  self-asser- 
tiveness  put  her  at  a  loss  to  understand  his  motives 
in  desiring  to  assume  this  friendly  relationship, 
but  from  a  sense  of  sincerity  she  struggled  to 
escape  from  his  enmeshing  implications. 

"  Really,  I  think  you  must  be  mistaken,"  she 
replied  in  grave  protest.  "  She  would  have  been 
most  unlikely  to  have  mentioned  me.  You  see 


THE  LODESTAR  69 

we  were  there  a  very  few  months  at  the  same 
time,"  she  respecified  her  explanation  at  some 
pains. 

"  Ah,  one  makes  friendships  more  rapidly  than 
one  realizes  during  school  days,"  put  in  Burgess, 
coming  to  the  rescue  with  a  shaft  of  cheap,  ab- 
stract sentimentality  quite  unusual  for  him. 

"  Really,  I  saw  very  little  of  Miss  Brinton," 
Eleanor  said. 

The  three  callers  seemed  unanimous  in  consid- 
ering this  statement  to  be  possibly  a  polite  depre- 
ciation of  an  absolute  intimacy,  or  —  if  it  were 
true  —  a  most  unfortunate  omission  from  the  edu- 
cational experience  of  the  plutocrat's  daughter. 

"All  the  better,  then,  for  us  that  we're  to  be 
here  this  summer,"  said  Mr.  Brinton,  affably. 
"You  and  May  are  certain  to  see  a  lot  of  each 
other  here,  at  any  rate.  She  was  a  little  opposed 
to  coming  up,  because  none  of  her  particular 
friends  were  to  be  near  her ;  she'll  feel  much  more 
reconciled,  I'm  positive,  when  she  hears  that  you 
are  so  close  at  hand." 

It  seemed  to  Miss  Hyde  that  it  was  simply 
impossible  to  convince  this  energetic  and  affable 
gentleman  that  she  and  his  daughter  had  not 
passed  their  school  days  on  terms  of  heart-entwined 
intimacy.  Evidently  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to 


70  THE   LODESTAR 

assume  that  such  an  intimacy  had  existed,  and  it 
was  clear  to  Eleanor  that  no  amount  of  polite 
protestations  on  her  part  could  unfix  this  deter- 
mined assumption.  She  took  refuge  in  the  reflec- 
tion that,  upon  the  arrival  of  May  herself,  the  truth 
would  out  and  the  thread  of  their  acquaintance 
reveal  its  real  slenderness.  Meanwhile,  it  seemed 
useless  to  try  and  escape  from  the  pose  reluctant 
into  which  Mr.  Brinton  had  forced  her.  King 
now  sallied  into  the  conversation. 

"  Your  uncle  and  sister  are  away  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Yes.  Uncle  Darius  has  gone  to  Perkins  Mills 
and  Elizabeth  is  away  for  the  day,"  the  girl  an- 
swered. 

The  commander  now  projected  one  of  his 
inspirations,  which  was  as  surprising  to  his  two 
companions  as  to  his  young  hostess. 

"That's  too  bad,"  he  said  regretfully;  "I'm 
sorry  not  to  have  met  them,  and  besides  I  had 
intended  to  ask  you  all  to  come  in  and  take  lunch 
with  me  on  the  car." 

"The  car?"  inquired  Eleanor,  not  understand- 
ing. 

"I  came  up  on  my  private  car  —  it's  down  at 
the  railroad  station,"  Mr.  Brinton  explained. 

"  Oh !  "     The  girl  was  enlightened. 

"It's  too  bad  the  others  are  away,"  continued 


THE   LODESTAR  Jl 

the  plutocrat.  "  However,  you'll  come,  won't 
you  ? "  he  said  cheerfully. 

"  Oh,  I'm  afraid  I  can't,"  Eleanor  replied  quickly. 
"  I'm  all  alone  here  with  the  girl,  you  see." 

"  All  the  more  reason  why  you  should  come 
with  us,"  responded  the  businesslike  Mr.  Brinton. 
"  Now,  let  me  see  —  who  shall  we  get  to  chaperon 
the  party  ?  "  he  remarked,  absolutely  ignoring  Miss 
Hyde's  previous  declination  of  invitation  and  as- 
suming her  subsequent  acceptance.  "Of  course 
I'm  old  enough  to  be  your  father  —  the  fact  that 
you  and  my  daughter  were  schoolmates  together 
would  seem  to  indicate  that  pretty  conclusively, 
but  that's  no  use  at  all  under  modern  standards 
of  propriety.  No  one  short  of  a  great-grandfather 
will  answer  now,  if  he's  a  male  —  which  he  almost 
always  is.  Ah,  I  have  it  —  Mrs.  Purvis !  " 

"Who's  Mrs.  Purvis?"  inquired  King  and  Bur- 
gess, almost  simultaneously.  They  were  beginning 
to  believe  Mr.  Brinton  competent  to  cope  with 
almost  any  novel  situation,  but  his  ability  to 
secure  in  a  strange  town  on  a  moment's  notice  a 
suitable  chaperon  for  a  luncheon  startled  them 
somewhat. 

"  Mrs.  Purvis,"  answered  the  capitalist,  "  is  the 
wife  of  the  Methodist  minister,  and,  so  far  as  I 
could  judge  from  my  hasty  conversation  with  her 


72  THE   LODESTAR 

at  the  fair  last  night,  is  a  superior  woman  —  a 
most  superior  woman.  She  sold  me  the  back- 
gammon board  and  the  cuckoo  clock,"  he  ex- 
plained specifically  to  the  young  men.  "You  know 
her,  of  course  ? "  he  said,  turning  to  Miss  Hyde. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  girl.     "  I  know  her." 

"  Good !  "  said  the  commander.  "  Then  that's 
settled."  In  his  usual  matter-of-fact  manner  he 
chose  illogically  to  interpret  her  acknowledgment 
of  her  acquaintance  with  the  minister's  spouse  as 
an  acceptance  of  his  invitation.  Mr.  Brinton's 
hasty  and  hazardous  leaps  to  desired  conclusions 
sometimes  bewildered  those  about  him.  "  I'll 
telephone  her  right  away  to  meet  us  at  the  car. 
She'll  come,  all  right.  May  I  use  your  telephone 
a  second  ? "  he  asked. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  Eleanor,  feeling  herself  quite 
helpless  against  this  unusual  gentleman's  deter- 
mination to  carry  her  off.  "We  have  no  tele- 
phone here." 

"  Then  we'll  just  have  to  telephone  Mrs.  Purvis 
from  the  first  house  on  the  way  in  that  has  got 
one,"  said  the  capitalist. 

"I  don't  think  the  Purvises  have  one,  either," 
said  his  hostess. 

A  momentary  shadow  of  annoyance  crossed  the 
face  of  Mr.  Brinton  ;  it  was  as  if  he  had  discovered 


THE   LODESTAR  73 

when  it  commenced  raining  that  the  umbrella  he 
was  carrying  lacked  both  a  cover  and  a  handle. 

"  Well,  it's  all  the  more  reason  why  we  must 
start  right  away,"  he  remarked,  forgetting  that 
no  previous  reason  whatever  for  an  immediate 
departure  had  been  advanced.  "We'll  just  have 
to  pick  up  Mrs.  Purvis  on  the  way.  And  if  we 
don't  get  there  pretty  soon,  she'll  be  taking  her 
lunch  at  home.  So  get  your  wraps,  Miss  Hyde, 
and  we'll  start  right  along." 

He  quite  lost  sight  of  the  fact  that  the  girl  had 
once  declined  his  invitation  and  had  not  since  by 
any  word  implied  a  reversal  of  her  determination. 
His  confidence  was,  however,  in  this  instance  justi- 
fied. Eleanor  was  interested  in  her  three  visitors, 
who  were  of  a  class  she  seldom  saw,  and  she  had 
never  been  on  a  private  car.  Her  curiosity  was 
aroused. 

"  You're  sure  about  Mrs.  Purvis  ? "  she  asked 
rather  doubtfully. 

"  Not  absolutely,  of  course,"  Mr.  Brinton  con- 
ceded. "We  may  not  be  able  to  find  her.  But 
I'll  promise  you  this  —  I'll  either  get  her  or  I'll 
get  some  one  else  just  as  good.  I  met  a  prize  col- 
lection of  energetic  old  ladies  yesterday  evening, 
any  one  of  whom  would  fit  in  nicely.  I  don't  re- 
member any  of  their  names  at  just  this  moment, 
but  I  guess  I  can  find  one  of  them." 


IV 


WHILE  Eleanor  was  away  preparing  to  accom- 
pany the  three  gentlemen  to  Burnham,  King  and 
Burgess  found  an  opportunity  to  exchange  con- 
fidences. 

"Well,  you're  giving  her  a  start,  all  right," 
King  commented  in  an  undertone.  "  Your  friend 
here  as  a  producer  of  the  maximum  velocity  in  the 
minimum  time  is  certainly  a  great  success." 

"  Isn't  he,  though  ?  "  said  Burgess,  with  admira- 
tion. "  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  man  ?  He's 
usually  in  the  home  stretch  before  the  rest  of  the 
crowd  have  decided  whether  they'll  enter  or  not. 
This  is  just  about  the  way  he  made  a  lot  of  his 
.money;  he  took  it  for  granted,  and  people  were 
too  surprised  to  protest  or  make  him  put  it  back. 
Say,  Mr.  Brinton,"  he  remarked  in  a  low  voice  to 
that  gentleman,  who  was  standing  on  the  other 
side  of  the  room,  attentively  examining  an  engrav- 
ing of  President  Lincoln  and  his  Cabinet,  "  do  you 
suppose  your  daughter  and  Miss  Hyde  ever  knew 
each  other  at  all  ? " 

74 


THE   LODESTAR  75 

"  Oh,  lord,  they  must  have  known  each  other," 
the  commander  replied,  turning  around.  "  Of 
course  I  don't  know  exactly  how  well ;  I  don't 
suppose  they  were  as  thick  as  thieves  —  in  fact,  I 
dare  say  they  weren't  nearly  as  thick  as  two  average 
companionable  thieves;  but  they  seem  to  have 
been  at  the  same  school  at  the  same  time,  and  con- 
sidering that  was  all  I  had  to  work  on,  I  flatter 
myself  I  did  fairly  well,  don't  you  think  ? " 

Considering  that  he  had  almost  forced  the  reluc- 
tant Miss  Hyde  into  conceding  a  caloric  friendship 
with  a  girl  whom  she  actually  regarded  as  a  most 
casual  and  ephemeral  acquaintance,  added  to  his 
success  in  securing  an  unconditional  acceptance 
of  a  once-declined  invitation,  the  young  men  felt 
inclined  to  grant  the  justice  of  his  assertion. 

"  I  suppose  May  just  knew  her  very  slightly," 
continued  Mr.  Brinton.  "  May  went  around  with 
a  more  expensive  crowd  than  this  girl  could  afford 
to  trail  with,"  he  explained  quite  frankly ;  "  but, 
good  lord !  what  difference  does  that  make  to  us  ? 
Not  a  bit.  Say,  this  girl's  all  right,  isn't  she  ?  I 
like  her  eyes  quite  a  good  deal." 

King  and  Burgess  emphatically  agreed  in  his 
approbation  of  Miss  Hyde,  and  just  then  Eleanor 
came  down,  wearing  a  brown  jacket  and  a  brown 
hat  that  toned  admirably  with  her  hair  and  the 


76  THE   LODESTAR 

eyes  that  had  attracted  the  favorable  comment  of 
the  capitalist. 

"  All  aboard  !  "  said  Mr.  Brinton,  holding  open 
the  door.  They  went  down  the  steps,  and  the 
apathetic  driver  pulled  into  place.  The  com- 
mander glanced  at  his  equipage. 

"  I'm  afraid  there  isn't  room  for  five  in  this  rig," 
he  said.  He  addressed  the  driver.  "  I'm  afraid 
you'll  have  to  walk  back." 

The  idea  of  trudging  three  miles  over  a  bad  road 
struck  that  individual  with  great  disfavor.  Besides, 
it  was  clearly  out  of  the  line  of  his  employment ; 
it  was  something  which  this  dictatorial  gentleman 
in  the  baggy  overcoat  had  no  right  to  demand  that 
he  should  do. 

"  I  guess  there's  room  f  r  ev'rybody  if  you  c'n 
squeeze  a  bit,"  he  remarked,  without  moving. 

"  Yes.  But  I  don't  care  to  be  squeezed,"  said 
Mr.  Brinton,  curtly.  Still  the  driver  made  no 
motion ;  he  seemed  to  consider  the  matter  settled, 
but  as  a  concession  to  his  patron  he  projected  a 
curt  explanation  of  his  inactivity. 

"  I'm  not  goin'  to  walk  back  to  town,"  he  stated 
with  surly  defiance.  "  It  ain't  what  I  was  hired 
for.  I  was  hired  to  drive  you  'round." 

Then  what  seemed  to  the  others  to  be  a  most 
remarkable  thing  happened.  Mr.  Brinton's  in- 


THE   LODESTAR  77 

terest  in  the  affair  suddenly  centred  for  the 
moment  his  entire  attention  upon  his  insubordi- 
nate employee.  He  evinced  no  trace  of  anger  or 
surprise ;  he  did  not  raise  his  voice  the  fraction  of 
a  tone ;  he  merely  brought  to  a  focus  upon  a  weak 
character  the  constant  determination  of  a  strong 
man  and  a  master  to  have  his  will  in  every  detail 
of  his  desires,  however  trifling  or  trivial  the  detail 
might  be.  His  keen  eyes  contracted  to  pin-points, 
and  seemed  to  shoot  command  at  the  obstinate 
countryman. 

"  Get  out  of  that  wagon,"  he  said  in  a  perfectly 
level  voice  without  a  trace  of  asperity,  in  the 
matter-of-fact  manner  in  which  he  had  been  pre- 
viously speaking,  but  steadily  regarding  the  man 
in  the  buckboard. 

The  effect  of  this  abrupt  order  was  both  instan- 
taneous and  startling.  There  had  been  no  threat 
of  enforcement,  but  the  surly  opposition  of  the 
driver  seemed  all  at  once  to  shrivel  up  and  wilt 
away  before  the  hidden  force  brought  against  it. 
The  resolution  of  Mr.  Brinton's  will  seemed  to  twist 
into  the  man's  very  soul  and  compel  him  to  move. 
To  the  astonishment  of  the  beholders  he  resentfully 
and  reluctantly  clambered  out  and  went  to  the 
horses'  heads,  grumbling.  As  an  illustration  of  the 
power  of  personality  the  victory  of  the  capitalist 


78  THE   LODESTAR 

had  been  remarkable.  The  girl  stepped  lightly  up 
into  the  rear  seat,  and  Mr.  Brinton  took  the  driver's 
place. 

"  Burgess,  get  in  behind  with  Miss  Hyde,"  he 
said.  King  climbed  up  beside  the  commander. 
They  pulled  away  down  the  hill,  the  driver,  sub- 
dued but  still  surly,  muttering  as  he  saw  them  dis- 
appear in  the  orchard. 

"  We'll  just  have  to  hurry  up  to  catch  Mrs.  Pur- 
vis," Mr.  Brinton  remarked  with  renewed  good 
nature,  as  they  clattered  over  the  little  bridge  and 
out  into  the  main  road.  He  touched  the  horses 
with  the  whip,  silently  regretting  the  lack  of  one 
of  his  touring-cars.  "  What  time  do  you  suppose 
she  has  lunch?" 

"  She  probably  has  her  dinner  in  the  middle  of 
the  day,"  Eleanor  replied.  "  Most  people  around 
here  do,"  she  added. 

"  Oh,  yes  —  surely,"  Mr.  Brinton  responded. 
"  I'd  almost  forgotten  the  custom,"  he  said  apolo- 
getically. "  It's  a  very  good  custom,  too.  We 
must  just  hurry  up,  then,"  —  and  he  flicked  the 
country  team  sharply. 

The  country  team  put  their  low-checked  heads 
down  and  went  steadily  on,  and  the  ground  be- 
tween the  Hyde  place  and  Burnham  was  rapidly 
covered. 


THE   LODESTAR  79 

"  Which  house  does  Mrs.  Purvis  live  in  ? " 
inquired  the  capitalist,  turning  around  in  his 
seat. 

"The  low  white  one  just  beyond  the  church," 
Eleanor  answered,  and  presently  they  drew  up 
before  it. 

"  Hold  the  horses,  will  you,  King  ? "  the  com- 
mander said,  and  he  leaped  agilely  out  and  hur- 
ried up  the  front  walk.  In  a  few  moments  he 
returned,  an  expression  of  disappointment  and 
perplexity  on  his  ruddy  face. 

"  She's  gone  away  for  the  day,"  he  announced 
in  some  annoyance.  "  But  don't  worry,"  he  hast- 
ened to  reassure  Miss  Hyde.  "  I  said  that  if 
I  didn't  get  her  I'd  get  you  some  one  else  just 
as  good;  and  I  will."  He  pondered,  standing 
with  one  foot  on  the  muddy  hub  of  the  front 
wheel. 

"  I  was  introduced  to  a  whole  regiment  of  A  I 
chaperons  at  that  fair  last  night,"  he  said  thought- 
fully; "but  somehow  or  other.  I  seem  to  have 
missed  getting  their  names ;  you  see  I  didn't  an- 
ticipate that  I'd  have  any  immediate  use  for  them 
—  I  could  scarcely  have  foreseen  anything  of  this 
sort.  Whoa,  there ! "  he  remarked  to  the  nigh 
horse,  which  had  lashed  around  with  its  tail  and 
caught  a  button  of  his  baggy  overcoat.  Untan- 


80  THE   LODESTAR 

gling  himself,  he  looked  hopefully  up  at  the  girl  in 
the  rear  seat. 

"Suppose  you  name  over  some  of  the  leading 
Methodist  ladies  of  this  town,"  he  proposed.  "  I 
might  remember  the  names  of  some  of  them  if  I 
heard  them  a  second  time." 

At  this  somewhat  peculiar  demand  Eleanor 
hesitated.  She  was  not  herself  a  Methodist,  and 
she  was  not  at  all  certain  of  her  ability  to  classify 
and  arrange  the  women  of  Burnham  on  sectarian 
lines ;  however,  she  attempted  to  comply  with  the 
request  of  her  new  acquaintance.  She  called  off  the 
names  of  several  estimable  females  whom  she  con- 
sidered it  likely  that  Mr.  Brinton  had  encountered 
the  previous  evening.  The  first  three  passed  with- 
out response  from  his  memory,  but  upon  mention 
of  the  fourth  he  brightened. 

"  Mrs.  Sturtevant  ?  "  he  said.  "  Thin,  angular 
old  party,  with  big  teeth,  and  gray  and  yellow 
streaks  in  her  hair?" 

This  description,  although  scarcely  flattering, 
was  sufficiently  vivid  and  convincing  for  Eleanor 
to  admit  the  identification. 

"  And  she  lives  right  next  door,  too,"  she  said 
hopefully. 

"  Good ! "  said  the  commander,  and  he  started 
forthwith  toward  the  Sturtevant  residence. 


THE   LODESTAR  8 1 

In  a  few  minutes  he  came  out  again,  with 
renewed  concern  and  the  wrong  result. 

"She  isn't  in,  either,"  he  said.  "I  always  used 
to  think  the  women  of  New  England  models  of 
domesticity,"  he  remarked,  somewhat  reproachfully 
and  with  a  trace  of  irritation,  to  Miss  Hyde.  "  My 
opinion  is  rapidly  changing ;  don't  they  ever  stay 
home  for  lunch  —  that  is,  I  mean  dinner?  And 
can  you  recollect  any  other  leading  Methodists? 
I'm  sorry  to  trouble  you,  and  I  don't  like  to  restrict 
you  in  this  way ;  it  seems  atrociously  narrow  and 
bigoted  to  refuse  to  accept  any  one  but  a  Metho- 
dist as  chaperon  —  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  my 
acquaintance  among  the  ladies  of  this  place  is  con- 
fined absolutely  to  that  particular  denomination." 

The  rest  of  the  party  laughed.  Meanwhile 
Eleanor  had  recalled  another  Wesleyan  leader. 

"Did  you  meet  Mrs.  Al  Squires  there?"  she 
asked.  "Very  stout  and  quite  jolly-looking?" 

Mr.  Brinton  remembered  her  with  enthusiasm. 

"Surely,"  he  said.  "She's  all  right.  She's 
great  fun,  and  a  thorough  business  woman,  too. 
She  sold  me  enough  maple  sugar  to  stock  a  whole- 
sale grocery.  Where  does  she  live  ? " 

"  Over  the  other  side  of  town,"  Eleanor  answered. 

"  Over  the  other  side  we  go,  then,"  responded 
the  capitalist,  getting  in  and  touching  up  the  team. 


82  THE   LODESTAR 

In  a  few  minutes  they  came  to  their  destination, 
and  Mr.  Brinton  went  hurriedly  to  the  door. 
Presently  he  emerged  triumphant. 

"  She's  coming,"  he  announced.  "  I  dragged 
her  away  from  her  own  lunch  —  that  is,  dinner.  I 
must  say  that  it  had  begun  to  look  as  though  this 
house-to-house  canvass  was  going  to  result  in  our 
all  going  hungry,"  he  remarked  with  some  relief. 
He  measured  the  buckboard  critically  with  his  eye. 

"  Say,  Burgess,"  he  said,  "  I'm  afraid  I'll  just 
have  to  ask  you  to  walk  down  to  the  car.  Have 
you  seen  Mrs.  Squires?  I  guess  she  tips  the 
scales  at  an  even  three  hundred,  and  I'm  none  too 
sure  of  the  stability  of  this  rig.  Miss  Hyde,  will 
you  come  in  front  with  me  ? — the  old  lady  can  get 
into  that  rear  seat  more  easily  than  into  this  one." 

"  Don't  you  want  me  to  walk  down,  too  ? " 
inquired  King,  in  some  apprehension. 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  commander,  with  deci- 
sion. "  Who's  to  help  Mrs.  Squires  in  if  you 
leave  ?  Say,  Burgess,"  he  called  to  the  young 
man,  who  had  already  started  down  the  sidewalk, 
"  if  you  get  there  first,  tell  the  men  to  set  five 
places.  I  told  them  last  night  I'd  bring  some 
people  to  lunch,  but  I  didn't  say  how  many,"  he 
explained  to  King  and  the  girl. 

"  All  right,"  Burgess  called  back. 


THE   LODESTAR  83 

When  Mrs.  Squires  appeared,  it  was  quite  evi- 
dent that  Mr.  Brinton  had  by  no  means  exaggerated 
her  weight;  in  fact  his  guess  of  three  hundred 
pounds  struck  King  as  having  been  surprisingly 
conservative.  The  lady  under  discussion  seemed 
to  fill  laterally  the  whole  of  her  capacious  doorway 
as  she  passed  through  it,  and  as  she  lumbered 
briskly  down  her  front  doorpath,  it  occurred  to 
King  that  discretion  pointed  toward  his  assisting 
her  into  the  vehicle  and  then  himself  proceeding 
to  the  car  on  foot.  But  the  capitalist  would  per- 
mit nothing  of  the  sort.  He  introduced  King  and 
Mrs.  Squires,  and  the  fat  lady  greeted  Eleanor 
effusively. 

"  It  jus'  goes  to  show  how  small  the  world  reely 
is,"  she  remarked  with  more  geniality  than  original- 
ity. "  Here's  Mr.  Brinton  been  a-tellin'  me  that 
you  was  his  daughter's  most  intimate  friend  at 
that  school  you  went  to.  Ain't  it  funny,  now, 
that  you  -and  him  sh'd  meet  this  way  up  here  ? " 

Then  by  a  tremendous  effort  Mrs.  Squires  with 
a  great  upward  tidal  heave  managed  to  hurl  her- 
self clumsily  into  the  rear  seat,  which  sagged 
ominously  under  her.  King  reluctantly  followed, 
seating  himself  gingerly,  and  the  curving  buck- 
board  moved  warily  onward. 

"  And  ain't  it  funny  you  never  met  Mr.  Brinton 


84  THE   LODESTAR 

before,  seem'  you  roomed  two  years  with  his  only 
child  ?  "  commented  Mrs.  Squires  to  Eleanor,  set- 
tling down  into  her  place. 

This  specific  fabrication  of  the  plutocrat's  struck 
Miss  Hyde  with  some  dismay.  She  quite  failed 
to  discern  the  humor  in  her  having  heretofore 
failed  to  make  Mr.  Brin ton's  acquaintance;  it 
seemed  to  her  neither  amusing  nor  notable.  And 
in  view  of  this  elaborate  misconstruction  of  their 
true  relations  she  considered  with  considerable 
embarrassment  the  probable  effect  of  Miss  Brin- 
ton's  ultimate  arrival.  It  was  unlikely  that  their 
relations  would  be  any  closer  than  they  had  been 
at  Allingwood,  and  this  would  leave  Eleanor  open 
to  the  suspicion  that  she  had  endeavored  to  mag- 
nify in  Mr.  Brinton's  eyes  the  regard  in  which  she 
was  held  by  his  daughter,  or  else  to  the  equally 
unpleasant  suspicion  that  the  young  heiress  had 
chosen  to  cut  away  from  her  former  friend.  At 
any  rate  the  true  limits  of  their  acquaintance  were 
bound  eventually  to  be  disclosed,  and  the  alterna- 
tive reasons  which  people  would  take  up  to  ex- 
plain the  lack  of  intimacy  were  almost  equally 
humiliating.  Unconsciously  Eleanor  frowned  a 
little,  and  with  ample  cause.  She  could  see  no 
cogent  reason  why  this  gentleman,  who  seemed 
to  be  attempting  to  be  agreeable  to  her,  should 


THE   LODESTAR  85 

continue  to  try  and  fasten  upon  her  a  spurious 
relationship,  which  was  certain  to  be  troublesome 
to  her  when  its  falsity  became  apparent.  She 
was  annoyed  at  his  odd  insistence  upon  his 
groundless  theory. 

"  You  must  have  misunderstood,"  she  said  firmly 
but  quite  futilely.  "  I  never  roomed  with  Miss 
Brinton  at  all."  But  her  disclaimer  went  totally 
unheeded  as  the  party  arrived  at  the  railroad 
station. 

"  Here  we  are ! "  said  the  commander,  as  he 
swept  up  to  the  platform  with  a  flourish  that 
almost  overturned  the  overloaded  buckboard. 
"  Mrs.  Squires,  let  me  present  my  friend,  Mr. 
Burgess.  Burgess,  just  help  Mrs.  Squires  out, 
will  you?" 

Alongside  the  level  of  the  platform  the  disem- 
barkation of  the  ponderous  chaperon  was  accom- 
plished. An  interested  youth  with  bare  feet  sat 
on  a  baggage  truck,  chewing  a  toothpick  and 
critically  contemplating  the  operation.  Mr.  Brin- 
ton addressed  him. 

"  Got  anything  to  do,  Pete  ? "  he  inquired. 
"  No  ? "  He  extracted  a  coin  from  his  pocket 
"  Then  take  back  this  rig ;  I  don't  know  who 
owns  it  —  you  can  probably  find  out.  And  tell 
them  to  send  it  down  here  at  three  o'clock  —  Mr. 


86  THE   LODESTAR 

Brinton.  Three  o'clock."  He  surrendered  the 
reins  and  stepped  out.  "There's  the  car,"  he 
told  his  guests,  pointing  down  the  platform,  at 
the  end  of  which  stood  the  Mercury,  with  a  thin 
wisp  of  blue  smoke  melting  from  its  squat  stove- 
pipe into  the  sunshine.  The  party  all  walked  over 
toward  it. 

Mr.  Brinton  diplomatically  fell  behind  and  com- 
pared with  careful  eye  the  dimensions  of  Mrs. 
Squires  and  the  car  stairway. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  remarked  in  a  dubious  aside 
to  King ;  "she's  a  nice  woman,  but  I'm  not  sure  but 
what  Mrs.  Purvis  or  Mrs.  Sturtevant  would  have 
done  better  for  a  job  of  this  sort.  I  suppose  I 
could  take  the  door  off  its  hinges,"  he  speculated. 

The  same  difficulty  became  immediately  appar- 
ent to  his  weighty  guest. 

"  Mercy  sakes,  Mr.  Brinton !  "  she  exclaimed, 
regarding  the  parsimonious  passage  with  dismay ; 
"  do  you  expec'  me  to  crawl  up  that  little  narrow 
place  ? " 

"  I  certainly  do,  madam,"  replied  her  host,  firmly. 
"Don't  worry  —  you  can  make  it.  I  have  confi- 
dence in  you.  Billy !  "  he  called,  and  one  of  his 
three  versatile  servitors  responded. 

At  the  dignity  of  being  addressed  as  "  madam," 
the  pride  of  enjoying  Mr.  Brinton's  confidence, 


THE   LODESTAR  87 

and  the  reassuring  sight  of  the  smiling  tenor  of 
the  previous  evening,  Mrs.  Squires's  spirits  re- 
turned. 

"All  right — I'll  try  it,"  she  responded  bravely. 

"  Billy,"  said  the  commander,  "  help  this  lady  up 
the  steps.  She's  got  to  get  up  them  —  that's  all 
there  is  to  it.  Now  you  take  her  hands — I'll  stay 
behind  and  push  a  bit.  There  !  —  that's  the  way." 
With  a  tremendous  effort  the  stout  lady  reached 
the  top  of  the  steps  and  slid  gracefully  through 
the  door. 

"  There ! "  repeated  Mr.  Brinton,  wiping  his 
forehead  and  turning  to  his  other  guests  with  con- 
siderable relief.  "That  was  a  pretty  close  call. 
I'd  begun  to  think  we'd  have  to  get  a  switch 
engine  and  a  steam  crane  to  hoist  her  in,  or  else 
move  the  table  out  of  the  car  and  serve  the  lunch 
on  the  platform." 

Mrs.  Squires,  snugly  fitted  into  the  largest 
chair  the  Mercury  afforded,  rested,  panting  a  little 
from  her  extraordinary  exertions,  investigating  the 
integrity  of  her  wearing  apparel.  The  solicitous 
and  skilful  Billy  drew  near,  bearing  on  a  tray  a 
glass  of  water,  which  she  gratefully  accepted,  sip- 
ping it  slowly. 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  ever  did  get  up  those  steps," 
she  remarked.  "  Al  always  says  he  guesses  there 


88  THE  LODESTAR 

mus'  be  a  special  providence  f'r  fat  folks  's  well 
as  drunken  men  'nd  fools.  Anyhow,  it  seems  to  me 
's  if  I  get  through  a  lot  o'  places  by  luck  that  I  c'd 
never  get  through  by  measurement.  I  reckon  I'm 
's  much  's  a  foot  wider  'n  those  stairs.  It's  awful 
unhandy  sometimes,  weighin' — vveighin'  as  much 
's  I  do,"  she  finished,  with  a  'noticeable  omission 
of  the  specific,  being  either  ignorant  of  her  real 
weight,  ashamed  of  it,  or  unable  to  estimate  it  with 
presentable  nicety.  Her  loquacity,  pouring  forth 
upon  the  sympathetic  black  man,  was  accepted 
by  him  with  due  gravity.  Then  the  commander 
appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"  Come  on,"  he  said,  and  he  entered,  followed 
by  his  guests.  "  You  got  up  those  steps  famously, 
Mrs.  Squires,"  he  said.  "  You  couldn't  have  done 
it  better  if  your  mother  had  been  a  ballet  dancer 
and  your  father  a  steeple-jack." 

The  humorous  attribution  of  such  a  parentage 
to  the  enormous  country  Methodist  lady  seemed  a 
trifle  inappropriate,  and  Mrs.  Squires  was  at  first 
rather  inclined  to  resent  the  reflection  upon  her 
highly  respectable  maternal  ancestry ;  but  perceiv- 
ing that  her  host  had  meant  to  be  nothing  but 
complimentary,  she  held  her  peace  and  entered  no 
protest.  By  this  time  the  gravity  of  King,  how- 
ever, was  strained  almost  to  the  point  of  annihila- 


THE   LODESTAR  89 

tion.  Mr.  Brinton's  appearance  at  the  church  fair 
with  his  three  negroes,  his  subsequent  capture  of 
the  surprised  Miss  Hyde,  his  remarkable  tour  of 
the  Methodist  matrons,  the  curious  chaperon  he 
had  finally  managed  to  secure  for  his  luncheon,  the 
thoroughly  businesslike  manner  in  which  the  esti- 
mable lady  had  been  thrust  up  the  steps  and 
jammed  into  the  car,  followed  by  the  astonishing 
form  of  compliment  the  capitalist  had  chosen  to 
pay  her  for  her  good-humored  toleration  of  what 
seemed  almost  an  impertinence  — all  together,  King 
felt  that,  measured  by  his  deeds  during  the  eigh- 
teen hours  just  passed,  this  New  York  nouveau 
riche  millionnaire  was  the  most  extraordinary  char- 
acter he  had  ever  met. 

"Let's  all  sit  down  right  away  —  I'm  fearfully 
hungry,"  said  Mr.  Brinton.  "  Mrs.  Squires,  you're 
all  right  just  where  you  are.  Miss  Hyde,  if  you 
will  sit  at  my  left.  King,  will  you  please  take  the 
place  next  to  Miss  Hyde?  Billy,  bring  on  the 
lunch  as  soon  as  it's  ready." 

The  chaperon  turned  her  mammoth  form 
toward  Burgess  and  addressed  her  confidences  to 
his  ear. 

"Ain't  Mr.  Brinton  jus'  the  greatest?" 

"He  certainly  is,"  Burgess  replied  with  deep 
sincerity. 


90  THE   LODESTAR 

"  So  liberal  'n'  so  good-natured.  You  jus'  can't 
get  mad  at  him.  An'  he  says  the  queerest  things  ! 
The  idea  of  his  tellin'  me  that  my  mother  might 
h've  been  a  bally  dancer !  —  I  declare  !  " 

"  Mr.  Brinton  didn't  mean  anything  by  it,"  the 
young  man  hastened  to  assure  her.  "  It's  merely 
his  way  of  putting  things,  —  very  vivid  and  force- 
ful, don't  you  think  ? " 

Meanwhile  Eleanor  was  confessing  that  the 
present  was  her  initial  visit  to  a  private  car,  when 
the  white-jacketed  waiter  appeared  through  the 
narrow  passage,  with  the  clams.  By  a  positively 
brilliant  stroke  of  tact  the  genial  host  had  thought 
to  warn  the  maker  of  the  menu  to  omit  the  pre- 
liminary cocktail,  which  customarily  held  an  im- 
portant place  in  similar  entertainments  that  he 
had  provided ;  if  this  soothing  and  seductive  bev- 
erage had  been  set  before  Mrs.  Squires  it  is  prob- 
able that  the  far  from  bigoted  lady  of  the  enormous 
bulk,  who  had  submitted  without  visible  anger  to 
Brinton's  scarcely  flattering  speculations  upon  her 
parentage,  could  scarcely  have  been  prevented 
from  rising  up  and  fleeing  in  ponderous  protest 
from  such  a  horrid  debauch.  The  conversation 
went  forward  briskly  enough. 

"  When  are  you  going  to  move  up  here  for  the 
summer,  Mr.  Brinton?"  King  asked. 


THE   LODESTAR  91 

"Oh,  I  guess  in  about  a  month,"  the  capitalist 
replied. 

Mrs.  Squires  perceived  a  chance  to  insert  a 
wedge  in  the  interest  of  her  denomination. 

"  I  do  hope  that  when  you  come  f 'r  good,  you'll 
reg'larly  attend  our  church,"  she  said  cordially. 
"  You  know  so  many  of  the  leadin'  people  in  it, 
now." 

"  Oh,  yes  —  delightful  people,"  her  host  hastily 
conceded.  "Won't  you  have  another  olive?"  The 
prospect  of  spending  each  Sunday  morning  sitting 
in  an  uncomfortable  pew  and  listening  to  the  des- 
perately tedious  and  inexcusably  protracted  exhor- 
tations of  a  typical  country  preacher  struck  him 
with  dismay.  "  But  I'm  not  a  Methodist,  you 
know,"  he  confessed. 

The  stout  lady's  disappointment  over  this  dis- 
closure was  less  than  the  rest  of  the  party  had 
expected  it  to  be.  Very  likely,  although  she  con- 
sidered Mr.  Brinton  to  be  most  liberal  and  good- 
natured,  she  did  not  deem  him  an  especially 
successful  demonstration  of  the  possibilities  of  any 
branch  of  the  Christian  religion  —  very  likely  she 
thought  him,  by  the  very  fact  of  his  being  outside 
her  fold,  a  possible  convert.  As  for  Mr.  Brinton 
himself,  his  Sunday  mornings  were  spent  in  diverse 
ways  —  in  reading  the  papers,  in  playing  at  bill- 


92  THE   LODESTAR 

iards  or  bridge,  in  automobiling,  in  bed,  or  in  al- 
most anything  except  attending  religious  services. 

"Is  there  a  Lutheran  church  here ?  "  he  asked 
Mrs.  Squires,  with  simulated  anxiety. 

"  No,  there  isn't,"  replied  that  lady,  in  some  little 
surprise. 

"Well,  I'm  a  Lutheran,"  her  host  announced 
firmly. 

Mrs.  Squires  was  somewhat  taken  aback  at  this 
statement.  Evidently  Mr.  Brinton  had  advanced 
it  as  a  sufficient  reason  why  he  should  not  attend 
her  church,  and  yet  she  was  at  a  loss  to  follow  his 
line  of  argument.  She  innocently  and  not  un- 
naturally deemed  the  lack  of  a  church  of  one's 
own  particular  faith  a  fairly  sufficient  cause  for 
selecting  another  friendly  sect  with  which  tem- 
porarily to  worship.  But  her  host's  seemingly 
irrelevant  statement  had  been  delivered  with  the 
authority  of  finality.  Being  totally  ignorant  of  the 
cardinal  principles  of  Lutheranism,  she  wondered 
vaguely  whether  the  rules  of  that  denomination 
forbade  its  members  to  associate  in  service  with  all 
outsiders ;  perhaps  there  was  some  feud  between 
the  two  sects,  of  which  she  had  never  heard.  She 
relapsed  into  the  silence  of  defeat. 

"  Yes,  I'm  a  Lutheran,"  the  capitalist  repeated  ; 
"Martin  Luther's  old  religion's  good  enough  for 


THE   LODESTAR  93 

me;  wine,  woman,  and  song  —  that's  what  I  be- 
lieve in ;  gewein,  gewoman,  unt  gesong,  as  our 
German  friends  quaintly  put  it.  I  believe  in  asso- 
ciating myself  with  one  of  the  less  powerful 
religions — sects,  I  should  say,  anyway,  Mrs. 
Squires — they  exercise  a  restraining  influence 
over  the  larger  ones  —  keep  them  from  getting 
too  cocky,  so  to  speak.  Competition's  a  good 
thing  in  religion  as  well  as  in  everything  else. 
I  dare  say  you  Methodists  turn  out  a  good  deal 
better  class  of  Methodism  than  you  would  if  you 
were  left  alone  and  didn't  have  a  lot  of  healthy 
competitors  continually  trying  to  get  your  trade 
away." 

At  the  end  of  this  extraordinary  harangue  Mrs. 
Squires  was  quite  speechless.  King  was  in  the 
meantime  talking  to  Miss  Hyde. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  us  that  you  knew  Miss 
Brinton  so  well  —  when  we  met  you  yesterday?" 
he  asked  in  a  low  voice,  his  eyes  twinkling  a  little. 

The  girl  laid  down 'her  fork  and  looked  at  him 
seriously. 

"  Honestly,  Mr.  King,  I  scarcely  knew  her  at 
all,"  she  said.  "  I've  been  trying  my  hardest  to 
tell  all  of  you  so  right  along,  but  none  of  you  seems 
to  pay  the  slightest  attention  to  what  I  say  — 
especially  Mr.  Brinton.  Why  in  the  world  do  you 


94  THE   LODESTAR 

suppose  that  he  keeps  on  insisting  I  was  his 
daughter's  most  intimate  friend  ?  " 

The  young  man  looked  at  Eleanor's  brown  eyes 
and  felt  tempted  to  suggest  that  any  method  of 
forcing  a  way  into  her  friendship  was  easily  to  be 
excused  from  any  man,  —  opulent  widowers  cer- 
tainly being  no  exception, — but  he  quelled  this 
projected  indiscretion  with  an  effort. 

"  Oh,  he  doesn't  mean  any  harm  by  it,"  he 
said.  "He's  a  most  peculiar  man  —  it  isn't  very 
difficult  to  see  that.  But  don't  worry  —  Burgess 
and  I  understand  perfectly.  Regard  it  as  a 
joke." 

"  Yes.  You  and  Mr.  Burgess  may  understand, 
but  every  one  doesn't,"  the  girl  protested.  "  He's 
really  putting  me  in  a  false  position.  Miss  Brinton, 
for  one,  won't  understand,  and  when  she  gets  here 
and  meets  the  Burnham  people,  she'll  think  I've 
been  trying  to  pose  as  her  room-mate." 

"  Oh,  no,"  King  reassured  her.  But  on  second 
thought  it  struck  him  that  under  the  circumstances 
the  New  York  girl  might  easily  be  justified  in  some 
such  suspicion.  He  reflected  a  moment.  "  I  hadn't 
thought  of  that  —  very  likely  you're  right,"  he  said. 
"  Now,  there's  no  use  of  trying  to  do  anything  with 
Mr.  Brinton,  and  I  don't  know  Miss  Brinton  myself, 
but  if  you  like,  I'll  ask  Burgess  to  explain  the  whole 


THE   LODESTAR  95 

thing  to  her.  We  were  really  responsible  for  get- 
ting you  into  it." 

Eleanor  considered  his  offer  rather  carefully, 
Mr.  Brinton  being  conversationally  immersed  in 
a  dissertation  on  block-signal  systems. 

"  It  would  be  very  good  of  you  —  if  you  don't 
mind,"  she  said. 

The  meal  passed  off  splendidly.  Mr.  Brinton 
fairly  shone.  His  fund  of  information  on  subjects 
seldom  discussed  was  simply  astonishing.  From 
block  signals  he  turned  the  conversation  toward 
patent  methods  of  starting  horse-races.  Thence 
it  drifted  to  the  history  of  the  evolution  of  Monte 
Carlo.  From  there,  Mr.  Brinton  having  been 
reminded  of  a  certain  Russian  nobleman  who  had 
lost  vast  sums  in  demonstrating  the  pathetic  falli- 
bility of  a  roulette  system,  it  skipped  to  St.  Peters- 
burg, and  thence  to  a  technical  but  easily  grasped 
comparison  of  Slavonic  and  American  methods  in 
the  refining  of  petroleum.  This  led  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  a  burning  tank  ship,  which  Mr.  Brinton  once 
had  seen  while  he  was  crossing  the  Atlantic ;  and 
this  was  followed  by  a  short  account  of  recently  in- 
vented fire-fighting  apparatus  and  scientific  methods 
of  blowing  up  buildings  against  the  advance  of  a 
conflagration.  The  question  of  water-supply  and 
pressure  came  next,  —  Mr.  Brinton  knew  a  man 


96  THE   LODESTAR 

who  had  just  patented  an  exceedingly  ingenious 
gate-valve,  which  he  treated  in  detail,  —  and  then 
an  intricate  comparison  between  the  sewage  systems 
of  modern  Chicago  and  ancient  Rome  was  given 
by  the  man  at  the  head  of  the  table.  Mr.  Brinton 
did  almost  all  the  talking,  —  he  seemed  to  confine 
the  talk  to  subjects  upon  which  no  one  of  his 
guests  possessed  the  slightest  iota  of  information, 
—  and  by  the  conclusion  of  the  luncheon  he  had 
attacked  and  satisfactorily  reviewed  a  most  extraor- 
dinary collection  of  topics,  ranging  from  seedless 
apples  to  Polynesian  folk-songs.  Even  King  and 
Burgess,  who  were  young  men  of  considerable 
courage,  erudition,  and  tact,  were  quite  unable  to 
find  an  opening  through  which  their  host's  con- 
tinuous monologue  might  be  broadened  into  a 
general  conversation.  And,  at  any  rate,  they 
were  resigned  to  a  feeling  that  although  they 
themselves  were  making  but  a  sorry  showing,  it 
was  impossible  not  to  be  interested  in  what  the 
commander  was  saying.  Mrs.  Squires  hung  on 
his  every  word,  and  if  she  remembered  what  he 
said,  she  gained  in  the  course  of  that  meal  more 
genuine  information  upon  such  curious  subjects 
as  volcanic  activities  in  interior  Iceland  and  the 
care  and  breeding  of  cockatoos,  than  in  the  whole 
of  her  previous  life. 


THE   LODESTAR  97 

After  luncheon  the  three  gentlemen  smoked 
their  cigars  on  the  observation  platform,  and  at 
three  o'clock  a  boy  appeared  with  a  buckboard. 

"  Burgess,"  said  the  commander,  "  I'm  going  to 
ask  you  and  King  to  see  the  ladies  home  safe ;  the 
division  superintendent  is  going  to  put  the  car  on 
this  down  train  —  I  find  I  shall  have  to  go  to 
Detroit  to-morrow."  He  shook  hands  heartily 
with  all  his  guests.  "Mrs.  Squires,  it  was  very 
kind  of  you  to  come ;  Miss  Hyde,  we  shall  hope  to 
see  a  great  deal  of  you  when  May  arrives  ;  glad 
to  have  met  you,  King  —  look  me  up  in  town; 
good-by,  Burgess;  be  good."  The  ever  ready 
colored  men  managed  to  pry  the  stout  chaperon 
out  of  the  car  and  down  the  steps,  and  the  four 
visitors  set  out  in  the  buckboard,  the  magnate 
waving  them  farewell  with  a  large  napkin  from  the 
observation  platform  of  the  Mercury. 

"  Isn't  he  the  very  devil  of  a  man  !  "  said  King, 
in  frank  admiration,  as  they  went  slowly  up  the 
hill. 

There  was  no  dissenting  opinion,  even  from  the 
Methodist  lady. 


KING  kept  his  promise,  and  promptly  spoke  to 
Burgess  of  what  he  had  suggested  to  Eleanor 
while  at  Mr.  Brinton's  luncheon,  and  one  evening 
about  a  week  later  Burgess  took  occasion  to  carry 
out  the  plan  she  had  approved.  Half  after  eight 
found  him  at  the  door  of  the  big  house  on  Fifth 
Avenue,  where  the  Brintons  made  their  New  York 
home. 

Every  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Brinton's  was  struck 
with  a  sudden  similar  surprise  upon  entering  for  the 
first  time  the  residence  of  that  opulent  individual. 
Although  the  man's  personal  pretentiousness  was 
slight,  his  flamboyant  characteristics  were  so  decid- 
edly developed  that  one  not  unnaturally  expected 
the  dwelling  to  reflect  with  general  accuracy  the  tone 
of  its  owner.  One  instantly  looked  for  such  things 
as  these  :  a  great  many  lights,  and  a  great  many 
pictures,  more  startling  than  commendable,  crowded 
together  on  the  walls,  and  overelaborate  furniture, 
upon  which  the  dollar  sign  —  the  mark  of  the 
beast  —  was  quite  ineradicable,  and  expensive 

98 


THE   LODESTAR  99 

hangings  hung  in  superfluous  places  with  fearful 
effect,  and  wonderful  cherubs,  executed  by  some 
famous  mural  painter  very  likely  on  the  ceiling  of 
the  billiard  room,  and  solid  silver  coal-scuttles,  and 
a  man  dressed  in  red  plush  to  open  the  door. 
Nothing  of  the  sort  was  to  be  seen.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  say  exactly  what  Mr.  Brinton  would  have 
liked ;  fortunately  he  had  not  insisted  on  dictating 
suggestions  to  the  highly  efficient  gentlemen  who 
had  been  responsible  for  the  completed  dwelling. 
And  the  informal  geniality  of  the  master  was  not 
permitted  to  extend  to  his  servants ;  Burgess  was 
admitted  to  the  house  by  a  grave  and  discreet-look- 
ing person  in  irreproachable  livery,  who  took  his 
card  and  ushered  him  into  a  rather  dimly  lighted 
drawing-room. 

The  young  man  looked  about  him  somewhat 
curiously.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  been 
in  the  house,  although  he  had  come  to  know  Miss 
Brinton  quite  well  from  meeting  her  at  various 
parties  and  functions.  He  was  quick  to  miss  the 
stinging  evidences  of  elaborate  bad  taste,  which 
he  (and  every  other  newcomer)  instantly  assumed 
existed  within  the  mansion  of  the  capitalist.  On 
first  rally  from  his  surprise  it  struck  him  that  he 
was  in  a  really  beautiful  room.  It  was  very  long, 
so  long  that  the  light  that  came  from  in  front  of 


100  THE  LODESTAR 

where  Burgess  was  sitting  seemed  to  melt  and 
almost  to  fade  away  before  it  reached  the  dull, 
heavy  portieres  in  the  rear.  Over  the  polished 
floor  were  laid  several  —  and  not  too  many  —  dark, 
antique  rugs.  Most  of  the  furniture  was  of  old 
mahogany,  and  the  pieces  were  somewhat  formal 
and  undeniably  elegant.  Two  or  three  small  tables 
stood  easily  placed.  On  one  side  of  the  room, 
toward  the  rear,  there  was  an  onyx  fireplace  with 
curious,  twisted-brass  andirons,  and  on  the  mantel- 
piece above  it  stood  an  onyx  clock.  Burgess  was 
agreeably  surprised  in  the  paintings  which  the 
room  contained;  there  were  not  many  of  them, 
but  even  in  the  dim  light  he  recognized  the  plung- 
ing horses  and  burning  sands  and  hot,  white 
atmosphere  of  a  Diaz,  and  a  flat  canal  and  slowly 
turning  windmill  and  yellow-sailed  fishing  boats  of 
a  Mesdag,  and  a  fine  winter  forest  scene  with  dark 
pine  trees  and  glistening  snow.  Everything  in  the 
room  was  quiet  and  richly  handsome,  and  Burgess 
found  himself  wondering. 

Miss  Brinton  shortly  came  down,  and  the  young 
man  rose. 

"  Why,  how  do  you  do  ?  "  said  the  girl,  holding 
out  her  hand.  "  I'm  awfully  glad  to  see  you. 
How  very  dark  it  is  here !  Would  you  mind  ring- 
ing that  bell  ?  Thank  you.  I  was  getting  horribly 


THE   LODESTAR  IOI 

tired  of  myself,  and  I  just  hoped  some  one  would 
come  in.  Papa  went  down  South  yesterday  to  buy 
a  street-car  line  somewhere,  and  I'm  all  alone. 
How  does  it  happen  you're  not  at  Ardsley  ?  —  I 
thought  the  Warren  Whitings  were  taking  every 
one  up  there  for  dinner." 

Burgess  laughed  as  he  seated  himself,  letting 
her  run  on.  He  was  amused  to  note  how  quickly 
she  had  picked  up  the  conversational  debutante 
manner. 

"  One  reason  why  I'm  not  at  Ardsley  is  a  cruel 
physical  inability  to  be  in  more  than  one  place  at 
a  time ;  another  is  because  the  Warren  Whitings 
never  took  me  up  —  even  to  Ardsley ;  I  haven't 
the  pleasure  of  knowing  them,"  he  replied. 

"  Thomas,  please  turn  on  a  few  more  lights," 
said  the  girl  to  the  servant  who  responded  to 
Burgess's  ring.  Then  she  renewed  her  attention 
to  her  guest ;  Miss  Brinton  possessed  somewhat 
abnormal  suspicions, — her  father's  shrewdness 
had  come  down  to  her  in  this  form,  —  and  she 
leaped  upon  the  young  man's  disavowal  of  ac- 
quaintance with  the  family  in  question  as  some- 
what more  sinister  than  one  could  have  assumed. 

"Why  don't  you  know  them  —  aren't  they 
nice  ?  "  she  inquired.  "  They  go  around  a  lot 
with  your  set" 


102  THE   LODESTAR 

"  I  presume  they're  very  nice  indeed,"  Burgess 
answered ;  "  but  dear  me,  I  haven't  any  fixed  and 
proper  set  —  even  of  shirtstuds.  I  merely  don't 
happen  ever  to  have  met  them  —  the  Whitings,  not 
the  shirtstuds.  That's  all." 

"  Oh ! "  said  the  girl.  She  was  evidently  a 
little  disappointed  and  not  entirely  satisfied  with 
this  explanation.  "  I  don't  know  them  myself, 
either,  but  isn't  Mrs.  Whiting  a  sister  of  that 
Murray  Sanderson  who  married  the  same  chorus 
girl  twice  ?  "  she  asked. 

The  spectacular  course  of  this  exuberant  young 
person's  bound  out  of  still  life  into  marital  felicities, 
thence  into  marital  infelicities,  once  more  into  still 
life,  and  then  into  marital  felicities  again  without 
once  changing  the  opposite  member  of  the  personal 
equation,  was  too  well  known  either  to  repress  or 
to  require  comment. 

"Yes,  I  believe  so,"  said  Burgess,  shortly. 

"  What's  Murray  Sanderson  doing  now  ? " 
inquired  his  hostess,  unwilling  to  sacrifice  upon 
the  altar  of  propriety  such  a  lively  topic. 

"  I  believe  he's  in  the  real  estate  business,"  the 
visitor  replied. 

"  Oh,  I  meant,  what  is  he  doing  with  his  wife  ?  " 
Miss  Brinton  corrected. 

"Supporting   her,  I   hope,"  Burgess  answered 


THE    LODESTAR  1 03 

somewhat  curtly.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  he  did 
not  approve  of  Mrs.  Warren  Whiting's  brother. 

Miss  Brinton  laughed  with  easy  good  nature. 

"  Now  I  know  how  to  get  you  angry,"  she  said. 
"  It's  to  keep  right  on  talking  about  some  one  you 
don't  like.  I  wonder  why  you  don't  like  Murray 
Sanderson.  Surely  not  merely  because  he  made  a 
couple  of  foolish  marriages.  And  they  say  that 
Mrs.  Murray  Sanderson  is  very  pretty  in  a  cheap 
sort  of  way.  Did  you  ever  know  her  ? "  she 
inquired  with  a  sudden  suspicion  highly  creditable 
to  her  liberality  of  thought. 

Burgess  was  irritated.  His  hostess  had  actually 
hit  upon  one  of  his  weaknesses;  he  disliked  to 
discuss  those  whom  he  disliked. 

"  Mrs.  Sanderson,  the  ex-chorus  girl  ?  "  he  said 
coldly.  "  No,  I  never  knew  her." 

The  debutante's  good  humor  was  unimpaired. 

"  Well,  don't  be  so  horribly  peevish  about  it," 
she  responded  with  some  amusement.  "  Of  course 
it's  odd  you  never  met  her,  —  at  some  time  or  other, 
—  but  of  course  you  can't  know  every  one.  But 
from  your  indignation,  one  would  think  that  I 
had  suggested  that  you'd  never  known  any  other 
chorus  girl  in  your  whole  life.  No  one  man  can 
be  expected  to  know  all  of  them." 

This   remarkable  twist  in  the   interpretation  of 


104  THE  LODESTAR 

his  words,  Burgess  was  forced  to  admit  showed  a 
certain  superficial  cleverness  on  the  part  of  his 
young  hostess.  He  had  scarcely  expected  that 
his  almost  abrupt  denial  of  the  acquaintance  of 
one  particular  chorus  girl  would  be  construed  as 
a  reluctant  admission  that  he  was  not  on  terms  of 
personal  friendship  with  every  desirable  member 
of  the  entire  profession  Mrs.  Sanderson  had  fol- 
lowed before  her  marriage.  Moreover,  he  was 
bound  to  confess  that  in  his  own  case  there  were 
certain  exceptions. 

"  No.  It  would  be  almost  as  difficult  to  know 
all  chorus  girls  as  to  keep  from  knowing  a  single 
one  of  them,"  he  replied  evenly. 

Miss  Brinton  was  pleased  at  this  epigrammatic 
reply,  which  certainly  indicated  a  regaining  of 
poise. 

"  That  sounds  much  more  like  you,"  she  said 
with  satisfaction,  reaching  out  toward  the  table 
which  stood  beside  her.  "  Will  you  have  a  choco- 
late, or  is  it  too  soon  after  dinner  for  you  ? " 

"  None  for  me,  thank  you,"  Burgess  replied. 

"  I  think  I  will,  anyway,"  said  his  hostess. 
"  I'm  awfully  fond  of  them,  and  the  last  year  I 
was  at  Allingwood  they  wouldn't  let  us  have 
any  in  our  rooms." 

"That  was  pretty  hard,  wasn't  it?"   said  the 


THE   LODESTAR  105 

young  man.  "  What  did  you  do  —  secrete  boxes 
of  caramels  in  hollow  trees  near  the  school  ?  And 
by  the  way,  speaking  of  Allingwood,  I  met  one 
of  your  Allingwood  friends  the  other  day." 

"Who  was  it?"  asked  the  girl  with  interest. 
"Wait  a  minute — tell  me  where  you've  been,  and 
I'll  guess." 

"I've  been  up  in  Connecticut  —  at  Burnham," 
her  guest  answered. 

Miss  Brinton  looked  at  him,  laid  down  the 
chocolate  cream  she  had  taken  up,  and,  with  no 
evidence  of  approval,  she  said,  "  You've  seen 
Eleanor  Hyde." 

Burgess  was  actually  startled  ;  he  did  not  know 
what  line  his  next  remark  should  take.  He  had 
expected  to  bring  up  the  subject  less  abruptly, 
prepared  for  a  lack  of  interest  on  the  part  of  his 
hostess.  He  had  presumed  that  Miss  Hyde's 
name  would  evoke  but  faint  memories  or  the 
casual  attention  fitted  to  a  chance  acquaintance 
of  a  bygone  day,  and  he  had  set  his  plans  to  stir 
Miss  Brinton's  attention  out  of  diffidence  so  far 
as  he  might  be  able.  But  from  the  incisive  man- 
ner in  which  she  had  met  his  approach,  he  felt 
rather  as  if  he  were  put  on  the  defensive  and 
called  upon  to  explain  the  fact  of  his  having  been 
in  Burnham  at  all.  He  decided  to  move  slowly. 


106  THE   LODESTAR 

"  Yes.     It  was  Miss  Hyde." 

To  judge  from  her  odd  hesitancy,  it  was  evi- 
dent to  Burgess  that  his  hostess  would  have  pre- 
ferred to  continue  along  the  laid-aside  subject  of 
the  man  who  had  married  the  same  chorus  girl 
twice;  but  as  he  had  come  with  a  single  certain 
purpose,  he  declined  to  be  jostled  abruptly  off  the 
central  topic. 

"  I  saw  your  father  in  Burnham,"  he  said. 

The  slight  annoyance  of  the  girl  came  forth 
stripped  of  reticence. 

"Yes.  We've  taken  a  place  there  for  the 
summer.  He  didn't  mention  having  seen  you. 
But  he  said  that  he'd  met  Eleanor  Hyde,"  she 
remarked. 

"Yes  ?  "  said  Burgess,  politely. 

"I  scarcely  knew  her  at  all,"  Miss  Brinton 
continued.  "  We  were  in  school  only  a  few 
months  at  the  same  time." 

"  Exactly  what  Miss  Hyde  said,"  her  guest  re- 
sponded affably ;  "  but  I  really  couldn't  tell  how 
well  you'd  known  each  other,  because  Mr.  Brinton 
kept  insisting  that  you  were  intimate  friends,  and 
finally  got  to  the  point  of  telling  people  you  had 
roomed  together." 

"  Papa  told  people  that  we  had  roomed  to- 
gether ? "  the  girl  repeated  in  surprise.  "  Don't 


THE   LODESTAR  107 

you  think  he  may  have  misunderstood  Miss 
Hyde?" 

"  Oh,  no.  There  was  no  misunderstanding. 
Miss  Hyde  kept  saying  that  you  hadn't  at  all,  but 
your  father  insisted  on  it.  And  when  your  father 
insists  on  anything  —  well,  he's  apt  to  be  extremely 
insistent,"  the  young  man  said,  with  a  laugh. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Miss  Brinton  returned  absently. 
Her  mind  was  attempting  to  fathom  the  motives 
of  the  two  actors  in  this  misunderstanding.  From 
which  side  had  the  impelling  power  come  ?  Was 
the  country  girl  laying  plans  to  capture  the  opu- 
lent widower,  or  had  he  been  caught  by  her  un- 
thrust  charm  ?  Other  trials  had  been  made  with 
the  purpose  of  annexing  Mr.  Brinton  and  his  for- 
tune; the  energetic  widower  had  more  than  once 
betrayed  toward  some  desirable  young  woman  an 
interest  which  seemed  to  outrank  the  platonic. 
In  all  these  affairs  May  had  put  her  foot  down  as 
firmly  as  she  dared ;  she  resented  the  possibility  of 
her  father's  marrying  again.  From  Mr.  Brinton's 
point  of  view  almost  anything  was  possible ;  but 
fortunately  for  the  continuity  of  May's  peace  of 
mind  his  affections  were  too  nomadic  to  be  easily 
brought  under  a  single  permanent  control. 

"  I  wonder  why,"  said  Miss  Brinton,  after  con- 
siderable thought 


108  THE   LODESTAR 

Burgess  saw  her  trend  of  reasoning. 

"  So  did  Miss  Hyde,"  he  said.  "  She  hadn't  the 
slightest  idea  what  he  was  driving  at,  and  it  put 
her  in  a  rather  embarrassing  position,  too." 

"  How  so  ?  "  May  asked. 

"  Why,  your  father  gave  all  the  Burnham  people 
the  impression  that  you  and  she  were  simply  in- 
separable, and  when  you  go  up  there  for  the  sum- 
mer and  fail  to  greet  her  as  a  bosom  companion, 
those  people  will  every  one  of  them  think  that  she 
posed  to  your  father  as  being  more  your  friend 
than  she  really  was,  or  else  they'll  think  you've 
cut  her  since  you  left  school." 

Miss  Brinton  reflected  on  this. 

"  That's  so,  isn't  it  ?  "  she  said,  regarding  Bur- 
gess with  some  perplexity.  "  What  an  awkward 
position  to  put  me  in  !  how  do  you  suppose  we  can 
find  a  way  out  of  it?  I  certainly  don't  want  to 
hurt  her  feelings;  she  seemed  very  nice  —  she's 
really  awfully  pretty  —  but  I  hardly  know  her, 
you  see." 

Here  the  diplomacy  of  her  guest  showed  above 
the  surface.  He  had  determined  that  Eleanor 
Hyde  should  take  whatever  advantage  she  could 
gain  from  an  association  with  the  Brintons,  and  he 
felt  that  he  was  responsible  for  what  had  gone 
forward  thus  far,  and  that  he  must  not  allow  what 


THE   LODESTAR  109 

he  had  done  to  react  upon  her.  King  had  warned 
him  in  the  very  beginning  that  he  was  running  a 
considerable  risk  even  in  the  event  of  the  ultimate 
success  of  his  designs,  and  he  now  saw  that  he 
had  gone  too  far  to  permit  a  turning  back,  and 
he  must  follow  through  to  a  finish. 

"Of  course  you're  not  in  the  slightest  degree 
responsible  yourself,"  he  said. 

"  Papa  does  such  strange  things ;  I  don't  under- 
stand them,"  Miss  Brinton  agreed. 

"But  I  don't  see  what  you  can  do  now,  ex- 
cept—" 

The  girl  was  interested,  for  which  Burgess  was 
glad. 

"  Well  ? "  she  asked  expectantly. 

"  Except,"  said  her  visitor,  reflectively,  "  to  cer- 
tify to  your  father's  false  estimate  of  your  rela- 
tions with  Miss  Hyde,  —  that  is  to  say,  treat  her 
as  an  intimate  friend." 

This  plan  seemed  to  Miss  Brinton  to  be  decid- 
edly ingenious,  but  she  was  by  no  means  certain 
that  she  approved  of  it.  She  held  a  generally 
favorable  remembrance  of  Eleanor;  but  if  the 
pretty  schoolgirl  had  developed  into  a  worldly 
schemer  of  subtle  sagacity,  the  acceptance  of  the 
course  which  Burgess  had  proposed  meant  the 
evacuation  of  a  very  important  defence.  Miss 


1 10  THE   LODESTAR 

Brinton  was  extremely  reluctant  to  be  a  link  in 
any  chain  between  her  father  and  any  attractive 
maiden;  if  this  girl  really  had  designs  upon  the 
capitalist,  May,  who  was  not  at  all  a  hypocrite, 
was  by  no  means  anxious  to  open  her  arms  to  the 
youthful  plotter;  while  if  the  initiative  came 
from  the  other  side,  and  the  innocence  of  Miss 
Hyde  was  clear  beyond  doubt,  May  was  very 
unready  to  assist  her  father,  who  was  quite  irre- 
sponsible when  he  ventured  in  these  directions  and 
pursuits.  She  saw  vivid  danger  in  the  prettiness 
and  charm  which  she  remembered  that  Eleanor 
had,  when  at  school,  bidden  fair  to  develop.  And 
yet,  against  all  this,  Miss  Brinton  was  at  heart 
good-natured  and  kind  and  even  generous,  and  she 
realized  that  on  the  surface  of  the  situation,  espe- 
cially from  the  viewpoint  of  Burgess,  the  country 
girl  could  well  feel  that  justice  lay  upon  her  side. 

"You  mean  that  I  should  take  her  up  as  an 
intimate  friend  as  soon  as  I  get  to  Burnham?" 
she  inquired. 

"  Exactly,"  said  Burgess. 

"  But  an  intimate  friend  —  there's  got  to  be 
something  spontaneous  about  that.  One  can't 
keep  up  a  pose  forever,  if  it's  hypocritical.  Sup- 
pose—  even  if  I  should  like  her  —  she  shouldn't 
like  me?"  May  argued  to  her  caller. 


THE   LODESTAR  III 

"  She's  running  very  little  risk,"  returned  the 
young  man  politely,  with  a  smile. 

"  Yes  —  but  suppose  she  stood  off  and  was  dis- 
agreeably independent  and  refused  to  be  taken 
up?" 

"  I  don't  think  there's  much  danger  of  that,"  the 
visitor  answered.  "  In  the  first  place,  it  must  be 
so  stupid  for  her  on  that  farm  that  she'd  be  glad 
of  any  chance  to  get  off  it  and  be  among  some 
civilized  people;  Allingwood  is  a  poor  preparing 
school  for  a  dairymaid ;  and  in  the  second  place, 
they  say  that  you  can  be  very  tactful  and  nice, 
when  you  please." 

"Merci,  monsieur,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  little 
laugh.  But  her  good  humor  had  returned.  Why 
she  should  so  easily  have  been  convinced,  she  did 
not  know ;  but  somehow  in  her  mind  she  set  apart 
Eleanor  Hyde  from  the  class  of  girls  who  regarded 
Mr.  Brinton  merely  as  a  difficult  but  tremendously 
desirable  matrimonial  catch;  somehow  she  felt 
from  her  slender  knowledge  of  her  schoolmate 
that  Eleanor  was  a  girl  of  complete  sincerity,  and 
that  in  her  sincerity  was  May's  safety. 

"  It  would  be  as  though  I  were  getting  an  inti- 
mate friend  ready-made,  wouldn't  it  ?  "  she  said. 

Burgess  laughed. 

"  You've   hit  it   precisely,"   he   replied.      "  No 


112  THE   LODESTAR 

long,  troublesome  interregnum  with  all  the  annoy- 
ing detail  of  slowly  ripening  acquaintance  ;  you 
pick  the  full-blown  blossom  right  from  the  stalk, 
so  to  speak." 

"  It  might  be  even  rather  amusing,"  Miss  Brinton 
said  reflectively.  "  Do  you  think  I'd  like  her  ?  " 
she  asked  curiously.  "  I  hardly  know  her  now, 
you  see." 

"  Yes,  I  think  you'd  like  her,"  the  visitor  replied, 
affecting  mature  deliberation.  "  Hamilton  King 
and  I  both  liked  her  a  lot  —  quite  a  good  deal," 
he  argued.  He  was  much  too  wise  to  include  Mr. 
Brinton  in  the  number  of  Eleanor's  admirers. 

Perhaps  May  would  have  herself  rectified  this 
tactful  omission  had  not  her  attention  been  caught 
by  the  name  of  Burgess's  fellow-approver. 

"  Hamilton  King  ? "  she  echoed.  "  Is  he  a  friend 
of  yours  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I'm  around  with  him  more  or  less," 
the  young  man  replied. 

"  I'm  just  crazy  about  his  books,"  Miss  Brinton 
confided.  "  Did  you  like  The  River  Road  or  Gray 
Stars  best?  Don't  you  think  the  man  in  Gray 
Stars  was  fine  ? " 

"  The  one  who  said  that  love  was  the  temporary 
victory  of  emotion  over  reason,  and  that  hypocrisy 
was  to  wear  your  heart  on  your  sleeve  and  then 


THE  LODESTAR  113 

wear  your  sleeve  inside  out  ?  He  seemed  like  a 
little  less  of  a  prig  and  a  prude  than  most  of  the 
heroes  in  the  novels  that  are  turned  off  nowadays," 
her  caller  admitted.  "  Perhaps  it  was  because  he 
did  less  —  he  was  less  offensively  active  than  most 
heroes." 

"  I  don't  think  you're  very  enthusiastic,"  the 
girl  remarked  with  an  air  of  reproof,  "especially 
when  you're  such  a  friend  of  Mr.  King's." 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  I'm  not  noisily  loyal,"  Burgess 
conceded.  "  But  the  doctrine  that  the  king  can  do 
no  wrong  would  have  been  fearfully  difficult  to 
establish  if  his  Majesty  had  gone  into  the  produc- 
tion of  up-to-date  fiction.  I  suppose  Ham  King's 
above  the  average,  and  there  must  be  something 
good  in  his  stories  or  so  many  people  wouldn't  buy 
them;  but  you  see  I've  known  the  man  so  long 
that  I  can't  get  up  any  impersonal  interest  in  him 
as  a  mere  author,  and  whenever  one  of  his  books 
makes  a  hit,  I  feel  a  sort  of  surprise." 

"  I  don't  think  that  at  all  nice  of  you,"  said  his 
hostess. 

"  It's  only  natural,"  Burgess  returned.  "  I'm 
fond  of  Ham  —  very  fond  of  him,  indeed,  but  I 
know  him  from  A  to  Z,  and  I  like  him  for  what 
he  is.  You  probably  think  of  him  as  a  sort  of 
composite  of  all  the  attractive  qualities  of  the  men 


114  THE   LODESTAR 

he  draws  in  his  books.  He  isn't  a  bit  like  any  one 
of  them.  He's  really  a  first-rate  chap,  but  you'd 
probably  be  horribly  disappointed  in  him." 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  said  the  girl.  "And  I 
think  it's  very  unkind  —  yes,  positively  cruel  in 
you  to  knock  down  a  simple  schoolgirl's  idol  in 
this  unceremonious  way.  I'm  sure  I  should  like 
him  if  I  knew  him." 

"Oh,  I  dare  say  you  would,"  her  guest  con- 
ceded. "  But  you'd  probably  like  him  a  great 
deal  better  if  you'd  never  read  his  books,  and 
you'd  probably  never  like  his  books  half  so  well 
again.  Still,  if  you'd  care  at  any  time  to  risk  the 
experiment  —  "  he  proposed. 

"  How  ?  "  his  hostess  asked. 

"Why,  I  might  bring  him  here  to  call  some 
evening.  He  knows  your  father ;  they  met  at 
Burnham,  you  know." 

"  How  did  you  and  Mr.  King  happen  to  be  there 
at  this  time  of  the  year  ?  "  Miss  Brinton  inquired. 

"  Oh,  King  was  just  burrowing  around  and  try- 
ing to  smear  himself  with  local  color,  and  I  was 
keeping  him  company,"  the  young  man  explained. 
"  Ham's  writing  a  book  now,  in  which  the  color 
and  action  simply  reek  of  New  England.  It's 
called  Harmony  Dale ;  I  don't  think  much  of  the 
title ;  it's  the  name  of  the  girl  in  the  story,  and  I 


THE   LODESTAR  115 

must  say  it  sounds  to  me  more  like  the  name  of 
a  flag-station  on  a  one-track  railroad;  but  somehow 
King  seems  to  fancy  it." 

"  Harmony  Dale  ?  I  think  it's  quite  pretty.  I 
don't  believe  you're  at  all  a  good  critic,  anyway," 
his  hostess  answered. 

"  Now  I  thought  The  Fourth  Favorite  was  a 
good  title,"  Burgess  stated. 

"Yes,"  the  girl  agreed.  She  was  struck  by  a 
new  idea.  "But  meeting  papa  there  must  have 
confused  and  upset  Mr.  King's  local  color  sense 
fearfully.  There's  nothing  of  the  rigorous  Puri- 
tan about  papa.  Barring  ingenuity  he  doesn't 
suggest  the  plodding,  frugal  Yankee  a  bit.  There's 
no  griddle-cakes  and  oxen  atmosphere  about  papa 
—  champagne  and  forty-horse-power  touring-cars 
for  him  every  time.  I  should  have  thought  Mr. 
King  would  have  been  rather  put  out  and  an- 
noyed." 

"Oh,  he  wasn't  at  all,"  Burgess  hastened  to 
assure  her.  "  He  enjoyed  your  father  very  much ; 
Mr.  Brinton  was  very  kind  —  he  had  us  all  to 
lunch  on  his  car." 

"  Us  all  ?  "  the  girl  echoed. 

"  King,  and  a  fat  lady  named  Squires,  who 
chaperoned  the  party,  and  Miss  Hyde,  and  me." 

"  Really  ? "  inquired  Miss  Brinton,  with  interest. 


Il6  THE   LODESTAR 

"  He  said  nothing  of  it  to  me.  He  mentioned 
having  attended  some  church  fair,  and  I  assumed 
he  met  Eleanor  Hyde  —  and  the  rest  —  there." 

"Oh,  your  father  had  a  splendid  time  at  the 
fair,"  Burgess  replied  quickly.  "  He  bought,  I 
should  imagine,  almost  everything  the  manage- 
ment were  unable  to  dispose  of  to  any  one  else, 
and  when  you  go  to  Burnham,  you'll  be  the  most 
popular  girl  in  town,  if  you  take  half  the  advantage 
of  the  reputation  your  father's  made." 

Miss  Brinton  was  not  entirely  satisfied. 

"  Well,  where  did  papa  meet  Eleanor  Hyde  ? " 
she  persisted. 

Her  caller  determined  on  complete  frankness. 

"  Why,  King  and  I  had  an  accident  with  a 
buggy  the  day  before,  and  we  stopped  in  at  her 
uncle's  farm  to  make  repairs,  and  discovered  that 
she  had  been  at  school  with  you.  I  happened  to 
mention  it  to  your  father,  and  when  we  were  all  of 
us  out  driving  the  next  morning,  we  called.  Then 
your  father  decided  to  have  us  in  to  lunch  on  his 
car,  and  we  took  Miss  Hyde  with  us,  getting  Mrs. 
Squires  on  the  way." 

"I  see,"  his  hostess  replied.  This  seemed  to 
establish  satisfactorily  the  motives  of  the  country 
girl ;  at  any  rate  the  initial  impetus  had  not  come 
from  her.  Mr.  Brinton's  own  motives  were  always 


"  DETERMINED  ox  COMPLETE  FRANKNESS." 


THE  LODESTAR  1 1/ 

perfectly  inscrutable  and  frequently  a  maze  even 
to  his  daughter,  who  was  overweary  from  attempt- 
ing constantly  to  penetrate  them,  her  efforts  being 
usually  quite  void  of  success.  She  concluded  not 
to  try  to  analyze  his  conduct  on  this  occasion,  and 
accepted  the  situation  from  Burgess's  point  of 
view.  But  a  measure  of  the  paternal  shrewdness 
had  descended  to  her,  and  she  by  no  means  lost 
sight  of  her  visitor's  manoeuvre. 

"  How  neatly  you  lay  your  plans !  "  she  said  to 
him,  smiling  with  a  fine  depth  of  worldly  wisdom. 

Burgess  was  a  little  taken  aback. 

"Plans?  —  what  plans?"  he  inquired  in  some 
embarrassment. 

"Why,  just  this,"  the  girl  answered.  "Perhaps 
you  think  I'm  so  dreadfully  dull  I  can't  see  through 
your  little  game.  You  and  Mr.  King  are  wander- 
ing about  the  country,  and  in  some  out-of-the-way 
spot  you  run  across  a  remarkably  attractive  girl. 
As  social  formalities  and  conventions  forbid  your 
taking  her  yourselves  off  this  desert  island,  you 
cast  about  to  find  some  one  who  properly  can. 
Here  is  where  I  break  into  the  libretto ;  I  seem  to 
be  the  most  likely  rescuer,  and  you  start  things 
so  that  papa  gets  involved  in  the  game  —  and  he 
isn't  a  very  hard  subject  when  there's  a  really 
pretty  girl.  Then  you  come  down  here  and  inno- 


Il8  THE    LODESTAR 

cently  suggest  to  me  that  since  papa  is  responsible 
for  getting  the  girl  into  this  false  position,  it  would 
be  pleasant  and  a  nice  thing  for  me  to  go  ahead 
and  get  her  out  of  it.  That  means  taking  her  off 
her  desert  island  and  starting  her  with  my  own 
set,  where  you  think  she  will  be  able  to  take  care 
of  herself,  if  only  she  gets  the  chance."  The  girl's 
eyes  were  bright  with  satisfaction.  "Oh,  you're 
a  very  clever  schemer,  Mr.  Oliver -Burgess !"  she 
said  triumphantly. 

This  synopsis  of  the  plans  of  Burgess  was  so 
nearly  exact  in  its  truth  that  it  was  impossible  to 
deny  its  general  accuracy.  To  be  sure,  he  had 
not  exerted  any  effort  to  effect  the  position  in 
which  Mr.  Brinton  had  so  profoundly  enmeshed 
himself;  but,  after  all,  that  was  something  un- 
planned, which  had  worked  out  to  the  advantage 
of  the  conspirators.  He  could  only  laugh  at  the 
ease  with  which  the  girl  had  solved  his  elaborately 
laid  purposes. 

"  Oh,  you're  a  very  clever  guesser,  Miss  May 
Brinton,"  he  answered  in  full  surrender  of  his 
secret. 

"  Then  I'm  right  ? "  His  hostess  insisted  upon 
pinning  him  to  a  confession. 

"  I'll  have  to  admit  most  of  it,"  Burgess  replied, 
laughing.  "  But  will  you  help  us  ?  "  he  asked. 


THE   LODESTAR  1 19 

The  girl  was  doubly  pleased  —  with  her  own 
alertness  and  acuteness  in  so  quickly  analyzing 
the  motives  and  movements  of  the  man,  and  in 
the  subtle  flattery  of  his  appeal  to  her  social 
power. 

"  And  take  the  pretty  Eleanor  to  be  the  friend 
of  my  heart  —  to  please  you  and  Hamilton  King  ? 
Well,  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to,"  she  responded. 

Burgess  did  not  intend  to  offer  this  whimsical 
young  lady  an  opportunity  to  change  her  mind. 
He  rose  to  go. 

"You  didn't  say  whether  you  wished  to  meet 
King,"  he  suggested. 

"  Perhaps  I'll  never  like  his  books  as  well  again, 
and  perhaps  I'll  be  horribly  disappointed  in  him  — 
but  you  may  bring  him  here  some  evening,"  said 
Miss  Brinton,  smiling. 

Burgess  left  the  Brinton  mansion,  well  pleased 
over  his  success  in  having  so  promptly  gained  the 
magnate's  daughter  as  an  ally  in  his  enterprise  of 
bringing  Eleanor  Hyde  into  a  broader  social  world. 
It  was  certainly  true  that  he  had  won  with  ready 
facility  out  of  a  difficult  position.  May  Brinton 
was  a  young  lady  whose  prejudices  were  not  at  all 
easy  to  overcome,  and  as  she  was  always  hotly  sus- 
picious both  of  her  father  and  of  any  attractive 


120  THE   LODESTAR 

girl  upon  whom  he  chose  to  cast  any  portion  of 
his  energetic  interest,  Burgess  felt  with  excusable 
pride  that  in  this  case  he  had  accomplished  his 
desires  despite  a  severe  handicap.  In  fact  Miss 
Brinton  had  acted  with  considerable  good  nature 
and  even  with  generosity ;  she  had  undertaken  to 
play  a  part  for  which  she  had  but  little  choice  or 
taste;  she  had  agreed  to  offer  her  intimacy  to  a 
casual  schoolmate,  and  she  was  accepting  a  foreign 
obligation  quite  against  her  inclinations.  Burgess 
had  not  been  able  to  advance  a  single  really  cogent 
or  conclusive  reason  why  she  should  expend  her 
energies  and  lend  her  hand  in  extricating  Miss 
Hyde  from  an  embarrassment  into  which  Mr. 
Brinton  had  thoughtlessly  thrust  her.  And  yet 
the  capitalist's  daughter  had  agreed  to  do  what 
Burgess  desired,  and  he  felt  warmly  gratified.  He 
determined  to  stop  at  King's  rooms,  and  tell  the 
novelist  of  his  success. 

King  lived  in  a  bachelor  apartment  house  just 
west  of  Fifth  Avenue,  and  Burgess  started  down 
the  great  perpendicular  social  artery  of  the  town, 
for  Mr.  Brinton  had  built  his  dwelling  on  the 
first  northward  advance  of  fashion,  and  it  stood 
almost  a  mile  up  the  side  of  Central  Park. 

It  was  a  clear  night,  full  of  stars.  The  white 
electric  lights  along  the  avenue  brought  out  sharply 


THE   LODESTAR  121 

the  small  green  leaves  and  budding  branches  of 
the  park  trees  over  beyond  the  low  wall.  There 
was  little  traffic  up  and  down  the  way ;  a  hansom 
occasionally  went  by  Burgess  with  its  bobbing 
yellow  lamps  and  the  beat  of  the  horse's  hoofs 
striking  sharply  on  the  pavement,  or  an  automobile 
with  a  searching  headlight  would  cough  harshly 
past  and  swiftly  disappear  in  the  distance,  or  a 
belated  business  wagon  would  go  hurrying  along. 
There  were  few  pedestrians  —  a  couple  of  police- 
men starting  out  on  patrol,  some  single  wayfarers, 
each  stepping  forward  briskly  as  if  to  a  definite 
terminus,  a  messenger  carrying  a  big  pasteboard 
box,  two  or  three  couples  of  young  men  and 
maidens,  whose  pace  made  for  leisure  and  whose 
thoughts  for  romance.  The  cross  streets  were 
clean  with  evening  silence,  except  where  groups 
of  children  were  out  playing  in  front  of  the 
brightly  lighted  houses ;  these  cross  streets  all 
ran  between  high  borders  of  brick  and  stone 
dwellings  straight  on  down  to  the  river.  They 
were  lined  by  long  rows  of  yellow  gas-lamps  that 
seemed  to  meet  mistily  out  at  the  farther  eastern 
end.  There  was  scarcely  enough  vernal  evening 
breeze  to  swirl  the  dust  underfoot;  the  lightest 
branches  of  the  trees  in  the  park  barely  swayed 
against  the  white  lights. 


122  THE   LODESTAR 

Burgess  went  on  and  crossed  the  Plaza  and 
passed  by  the  towering  hotels  and  went  over  to 
the  other  side  of  the  avenue,  and  a  few  blocks 
south  of  this  he  turned  into  a  side  street  and 
came  to  the  building  in  which  King  dwelt.  The 
elevator  took  him  up  to  the  fourth  floor,  and  he  got 
out  of  the  car  and  pressed  the  button  beside 
the  door  of  the  novelist's  apartment.  Griffiths, 
the  dignified  and  clean-shaven  servant,  answered 
the  ring. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Burgess,"  he  said,  holding 
the  door  open  for  the  visitor  to  enter. 

"  Where's  Mr.  King  ? "  Burgess  asked. 

"  Out  of  town,  sir,"  the  man  answered. 

"  Indeed  ? "  the  young  man  remarked  in  some 
surprise.  "  When  will  he  be  back  ? " 

"He  didn't  say,  sir ;  he  went  away  this  after- 
noon." 

Burgess  would  have  departed,  —  he  turned  to 
leave,  —  but  he  thought  of  one  other  question, 
carelessly  posed  but  suddenly  indicative  to  the 
young  man's  quick  mind  of  something  he  had 
barely  suspected. 

"  Did  Mr.  King  say  where  he  was  going  ? "  he 
casually  inquired. 

"  No,  sir,  —  but  he  said  to  forward  his  mail  to 
Burnham  Inn,  Burnham,  Connecticut.  I  presume 


THE   LODESTAR  123 

he's  gone  there,"  the  servant  responded  with 
characteristic  exactness. 

"  Ah ! "  said  the  visitor.  He  smiled  rather 
cynically  and  picked  out  a  pattern  in  the  rug  with 
the  point  of  his  cane,  reflecting.  "Very  well. 
Good  night." 

"Good  night,  sir,"  said  the  man,  closing  the 
door  behind  him. 


VI 


HAMILTON  KING  was  not  an  utterly  selfish 
young  man,  but  he  was  one  whose  movements 
were  usually  prompted  by  mere  desire,  and  his 
desires  were  often  sudden  and  sometimes  inexpli- 
cable. The  fact  that  he  was  to  be  seen  quietly 
dining  at  the  Holland  House  of  an  evening  was 
no  certainty  that  next  morning  he  might  not  quite 
unexpectedly  start  for  the  Timbuctoo  Timber 
Reserve ;  the  four  rather  successful  novels  which 
he  had  written  furnished  him  with  ample  means  to 
gratify  any  nomadic  tendencies  that  rose  to  the 
surface  of  his  wishes ;  he  came  and  went  exactly 
as  he  pleased — frequently  and  in  strange  direc- 
tions. But  in  all  the  magnets  that  pulled  on  King, 
the  sex  element  had  heretofore  been  lacking.  He 
had  never  been  in  love,  and  the  girls  he  pictured 
within  the  pages  of  his  stories  were  unreal  though 
convincing  composites  of  attractive  qualities,  sums 
of  integral  items  of  charm,  modelled  from  the  ab- 
stract. King  had  himself  been  always  careless  of 
applause,  somewhat  sceptical  of  sincerity  in  love 

124 


THE   LODESTAR  125 

affairs,  and  overcritical  toward  women  he  had 
taken  the  interest  to  estimate.  From  the  feminine 
point  of  view  he  was  difficult  through  his  sheer 
indifference.  And  his  reappearance  in  Burnham 
was  the  cause  of  some  little  surprise  to  the  man 
himself ;  he  could  not  have  clearly  said  what  had 
led  him  to  return. 

A  girl  who  chanced  one  morning  to  be  walking 
along  the  hilly  country  road  that  leads  from  Burn- 
ham  to  Perkins  Mills  was  somewhat  startled  to  be 
overtaken  by  a  young  man  who  took  off  his  soft 
hat  as  he  came  up  beside  her,  and  said,  "  How  do 
you  do,  Miss  Hyde  ?  " 

She  turned  swiftly. 

"  Why,  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  King  ? "  she  an- 
swered. "  You  almost  frightened  me  when  you 
spoke,  although  we're  rather  defective  in  desperate 
characters  around  here.  How  did  you  recognize 
me  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  saw  you  coming  out  of  that  red  gateway 
as  I  was  going  up  the  hill,"  the  young  man  replied. 
"I'm  very  glad  to  see  you  again.  And  I  admit 
that  your  country  seems  entirely  peaceful  just  at 
present,  but  just  you  wait  till  our  friend  Mr.  Brin- 
ton  and  some  of  his  associates  begin  to  arrive,  and 
then  you  won't  lack  for  desperate  characters,"  he 
said,  smiling. 


126  THE   LODESTAR 

Eleanor  laughed,  and  King  felt  with  a  queer, 
quick  thrill  that  the  flash  of  sunshine  in  her  brown 
eyes  was  worth  coming  very  far  to  see. 

"Don't  you  think  you're  a  little  severe?"  she 
responded.  "  Now  I  should  call  Mr.  Brinton  im- 
pulsive, perhaps,  but  scarcely  desperate." 

"  Ah,  but  you  didn't  see  the  things  he  bought 
at  that  fair,"  the  novelist  rejoined.  "There  was 
an  oil  painting  of  some  stranded  cows,  the  pur- 
chase of  which  mere  impulse  could  never  excuse 
or  explain." 

"  He's  certainly  very  generous  and  hospitable," 
the  girl  answered.  "  The  way  he  took  me  and 
carried  me  off  into  town  was  perfectly  astonish- 
ing. I  don't  know  how  I  succumbed.  I  suppose 
really  I  shouldn't  have  gone,  but  I  had  some 
excuse ;  I  did  know  his  daughter  slightly,  and  I 
did  want  to  see  a  private  car,"  she  confessed, 
smiling. 

"  Mr.  Brinton  is  certainly  in  one  sense  a  host 
militant  —  he's  an  aggressive  entertainer,"  replied 
King.  "  Oh,  I  think  it  was  perfectly  proper  for 
you  to  go,"  -he  reassured  her.  "  You  were  surely 
well  chaperoned  —  Mrs.  Squires's  presence  always 
carries  a  good  deal  of  weight,  you  know." 

Eleanor  flashed  another  smile  at  her  companion. 

"  So  it  does,"  she  said.    "  By  the  way,  I  received 


THE   LODESTAR  I2/ 

a  note  from  May  Brinton  this  morning,"  she 
remarked  after  a  slight  pause. 

"  Did  you  ?  "  asked  the  novelist,  with  interest 

"Yes.  She  said  she  had  just  learned  that  I 
lived  here,  and  that  she  should  be  very  glad  to  see 
me  again  —  she  had  been  afraid  she  wouldn't 
know  any  one  up  this  way  —  something  of  that 
sort." 

"  That  was  rather  nice  of  her,  wasn't  it  ?  "  King 
commented. 

"  Especially  if  she  had  been  told  that  I  was 
posing  as  her  room-mate  at  Allingwood,"  Miss 
Hyde  said.  "  Do  you  suppose  —  well,  do  you 
think  that  Mr.  Brinton  told  her  to  write  to  me  ? 
You  see  he  seemed  determined  not  only  that  we 
should  be  friends  here,  but  that  we  should  have 
been  intimate  friends  at  school." 

"  No,  I  don't  believe  he  suggested  that  she 
write  you,  because  if  he  had,  I  think  Miss  Brinton 
would  have  promptly  rejected  the  suggestion  — 
from  what  I  hear  of  her,"  replied  the  novelist. 

"  Then  why  did  she  write  ? "  inquired  the  girl, 
somewhat  perplexed. 

King  met  this  question  neatly. 

"Well,  you  know  Burgess  said  he'd  go  and  ex- 
plain to  her  about  her  father's  forcing  this  false 
intimacy  on  you ;  and  very  likely  May  Brinton, 


128  THE   LODESTAR 

who  was  doubtless  perfectly  truthful  when  she 
said  she  didn't  know  any  one  here,  was  really 
pleased  that  her  father's  thoughtlessness  had 
made  it  possible  for  her  to  take  up  her  acquaint- 
ance with  you  on  a  somewhat  closer  basis  than  at 
Allingwood." 

Eleanor  was  dubious  of  this  pleasant  theory. 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  Mr.  Burgess,  but  it's  more 
likely  that  May  Brinton  would  have  been  angry 
because  she  was  drawn  into  the  affair  at  all  —  it's 
more  likely  she  would  leave  her  father  to  make  his 
own  way  out  of  his  difficulties  —  if  he  thought  of 
them,"  she  said. 

"Yes.  But  she's  written  you  this  letter,"  said 
the  young  man. 

"  That's  true,"  Miss  Hyde  conceded.  "  It  was 
very  kind  in  Mr.  Burgess  to  go  to  her  and  explain 
that  I  wasn't  telling  stories  about  her,"  she  re- 
peated; "but  I  don't  want  her  to  feel  as  if  she 
had  to  do  anything  for  me ;  for  I  don't  care  very 
much  what  people  think  or  say  about  me  —  if  it 
isn't  true,"  she  stated,  a  little  proudly. 

King  liked  the  gift's  pretty  spirit  of  indepen- 
dence. He  found  himself  regretting  that  he  could 
not  see  her  eyes  when  she  was  making  her  state- 
ment, and  caught  up  his  own  regret  with  a  little 
surprise. 


THE   LODESTAR  1 29 

"Oh,  it  will  come  out  all  right,"  he  replied 
easily.  "  There's  no  compulsion  on  either  side. 
But  if  you  should  like  each  other  you  can  make 
this  an  excuse  for  becoming  friends  more  rapidly." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ? "  Eleanor  asked,  a 
little  anxiously. 

"Certainly  I  do,"  the  novelist  asserted.  They 
had  come  by  this  time  to  the  entrance  of  the  Hyde 
place,  and  he  paused.  The  girl  noticed  it  and 
turned  toward  him. 

"  You're  coming  in,  aren't  you  ? "  she  asked. 

It  was  a  perfectly  natural  invitation,  given  in  an 
entirely  casual  way,  and  yet  King  discovered  that 
for  some  reason  he  felt  irrationally  pleased.  He 
found  himself  reflecting  that  it  would  be  wonder- 
fully pleasant  to  sit  down  and  talk  with  this  girl 
where  he  could  actually  see  her  instead  of  merely 
catching  an  occasional  hasty  glimpse  of  her  clear 
profile  as  he  walked  beside  her. 

"Thank  you  —  you're  very  good,"  he  said,  and 
they  went  on  together  over  the  little  wooden 
bridge. 

In  the  orchard  the  cherry  trees,  which  had  a 
fortnight  before  been  a  mass  of  snowy  blossoms, 
were  turning  quite  verdant,  and  most  of  the  white 
petals  from  the  apple  trees  were  strewing  the 
ground.  Along  the  orchard  wall  the  green  grass 


130  THE   LODESTAR 

was  springing  up.  The  sky  overhead  was  very 
blue,  and  the  breeze  was  fresh  but  soft. 

"  Did  Mr.  Burgess  come  back  to  Burnham  with 
you  ?  "  Eleanor  asked. 

"  No,"  the  novelist  responded.  "  I  didn't  tell 
him  I  was  coming.  I  came  on  the  impulse  of  the 
moment,"  he  explained. 

"  Sometimes  I  think  that  most  people  who  come 
here  must  come  in  that  way,"  said  the  girl.  "  If 
they  reflected  carefully,  they  would  go  somewhere 
else,  or  stay  at  home." 

Somehow  Miss  Hyde's  dissatisfaction  with  her 
town  secretly  gratified  King,  for  all  he  did  not  ask 
himself  the  reason  of  his  gratification. 

"  You  don't  like  Burnham,  then  ? "  he  said. 

"  No  —  not  very  much;  I'm  afraid  I'm  awfully 
tired  of  it.  But  you  mustn't  tell  any  one  —  I 
wouldn't  dare  confess  this  to  any  one  but  a 
stranger,"  the  girl  answered  with  a  smile. 

"All  right.  I  swear  to  keep  your  fearful  se- 
cret," her  companion  said  gravely.  "  But  do  you 
know,  I  like  the  place." 

"  Oh,  I  can  understand  your  liking  it  —  or  any 
one  else's  liking  it,"  rejoined  Miss  Hyde.  "  The 
trouble  with  me  is  that  I've  never  been  able  to  go 
far  enough  away  to  look  at  it  from  the  proper  dis- 
tance. You'd  find  it  difficult,  I  think,  to  appreci- 


THE   LODESTAR  131 

ate  even  a  good  painting  if  you  happened  to  be 
an  inconspicuous  figure  in  the  background,  unable 
to  step  out  from  the  frame  and  select  a  perspec- 
tive." 

"  But  you  must  have  a  true  perspective  upon 
something  else,  then,"  King  argued. 

"  I  have  no  chance  to  find  it,"  Eleanor  com- 
plained. "  The  foreground  here,  considered  from 
behind,  is  so  blurred  that  I  can't  see  beyond  it." 

The  man  smiled. 

"There's  evidently  only  one  thing  for  you  to 
do,"  he  said.  "  Some  day  you'll  just  have  to  take 
matters  in  your  own  hands  and  break  through  the 
back  of  the  canvas  and  escape." 

The  girl  laughed,  but  she  made  no  answer. 

They  went  together  up  the  steps  of  the  piazza., 
beside  which  the  honeysuckle  and  lilac  bushes 
were  commencing  to  bud,  and  in  at  the  front  door 
of  the  old  white  house.  Eleanor  led  the  way 
through  into  the  sitting  room,  from  which  the 
door  stood  open  to  the  kitchen.  To  her  surprise 
she  heard  through  the  opening  a  man's  voice, 
coarse,  loud,  compelling.  She  stopped  and  stood 
still,  listening.  The  tones  of  a  young  woman's 
voice  came  back  in  answer. 

"  No  ;  you  can't  have  any." 

"  I  tell  yer  I'm  goin'  to.     Understand  ? " 


132  THE   LODESTAR 

King  went  swiftly  past  Eleanor  and  through 
the  doorway.  In  the  middle  of  the  kitchen  a 
young  woman  was  standing,  flushed  but  fearless, 
facing  a  rough,  stocky  man  who  stood  in  the 
entrance  to  the  room.  The  man  was  clearly  a 
tramp  ;  his  clothes  and  shoes  were  ragged  and 
dirty,  an  unkempt  stubble  of  red  beard  covered 
his  face,  he  wore  a  battered  brown  derby  hat  and 
his  left  eye  was  badly  bloodshot,  which  gave  to  his 
general  appearance  a  peculiarly  sinister  touch.  At 
the  sight  of  another  man,  he  drew  back  a  little,  one 
foot  on  the  stone  doorstep. 

King  disregarded  for  the  moment  the  presence 
of  the  young  woman.  He  took  in  the  situation  at 
a  glance,  and  he  went  straight  across  the  room  and 
spoke  to  the  tramp. 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  here?"  he  said 
sharply. 

At  this  unexpected  interruption  the  intruder  had 
been  somewhat  taken  aback,  but  when  he  saw  that 
his  adversary  was  a  city  man  and  not  as  large  as 
he,  measuring  him  wickedly  with  his  eye,  he  saw 
no  peril  in  prospect,  and  rallied. 

"  I  want  somethin'  to  eat,"  he  said  gruffly. 

"Well,  you  can't  have  anything,"  said  the  young 
man. 

The  tramp  did  not  move  but  stood  still,  eying 


THE   LODESTAR  133 

King  disdainfully,  determinedly,  doggedly.  Eleanor 
had  come  into  the  room. 

"  I  tell  yer  I  want  somethin'  to  eat,"  said  the 
intruder,  with  sullen  stubbornness.  He  raised  his 
gruff  voice ;  he  had  decided  that  no  very  vigorous 
opposition  was  likely  to  present  itself.  "Come 
on,  now  —  I  want  somethin'  to  eat,  and  I'm  goin' 
to  have  somethin',"  he  said  more  belligerently,  and 
he  started  to  enter  the  room. 

But  King  was  too  quick  for  him.  He  took  three 
steps  toward  the  door,  and  his  fist  shot  out  from 
his  shoulder  as  from  a  steel  spring  and  centred 
itself  in  the  tramp's  face.  Before  the  heavy, 
clumsy  man  realized  the  attack  and  gathered  him- 
self for  it,  he  had  .reeled  backward,  his  foot  caught 
against  the  doorstep,  and  he  fell  heavily  in  a  heap 
on  the  gravel  path,  his  battered  hat  rolling  out 
away  from  him.  King  stood  in  the  doorway, 
alertly  facing  his  antagonist. 

The  tramp,  stunned  a  little,  picked  himself  up 
slowly.  First  he  looked  stupidly  at  his  hands, 
which  the  gravel  had  cut  when  he  fell ;  then  his 
eyes  flamed  wickedly. 

"  Damn  you  !  "  he  ripped  out  at  the  young  man, 
and  suddenly  he  caught  up  a  ragged  stone  from 
the  border  of  the  path. 

King  saw  no  easy  escape  from  his  position.    He 


134  THE   LODESTAR 

was  possessed  of  no  weapon  of  offence  to  offset 
that  in  his  opponent's  hand.  He  was  unwilling  to 
shut  the  door  —  in  that  event  the  man  would  cer- 
tainly revenge  himself  upon  the  property  before 
he  left.  But  while  he  was  keenly  waiting  with 
tense  nerves  for  the  return  of  the  attack,  and 
vaguely  wondering  how  he  might  best  meet  it,  he 
heard  the  voice  of  Eleanor  from  behind  him. 

"  Drop  that !  "  she  said  commandingly,  and  the 
tramp's  hand  went  reluctantly  down  to  his  side, 
and  King  saw  a  gray  rifle  barrel  slide  out  past  his 
shoulder. 

"  Drop  it,  I  say !  "  the  girl  repeated,  and  the 
tramp  let  the  stone  fall  on  the  path. 

"  Damn  you !  "  he  snarled,  and  he  took  out  from 
his  pocket  a  dirty  red  handkerchief,  and  wiped  his 
face,  which  was  bleeding  from  King's  blow.  Then 
he  glared  at  them  malevolently,  but  he  went  and 
picked  up  his  hat  and  set  it  on  his  head. 

"Now  get  away  from  here,"  ordered  Eleanor, 
lowering  her  weapon ;  and  he  went. 

They  watched  him  go  slouching  slowly  down  the 
road  through  the  orchard,  muttering  vengefully, 
and  then  they  turned  back  into  the  kitchen  and  King 
shut  the  door.  The  girl  laid  the  rifle  on  a  table, 
and  sat  down  rather  abruptly  in  a  chair.  The 
young  woman  to  whose  assistance  the  visitor  had 


THE   LODESTAR  135 

come,  had  sunk  into  another  chair  and  was  regard- 
ing him  somewhat  curiously. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot,"  said  Eleanor.  "  Elizabeth,  let 
me  present  Mr.  King  —  my  sister." 

"  I'm  very  glad  to  meet  you,  Miss  Hyde,"  said 
the  novelist,  politely.  He  turned  back  to  the 
younger  girl ;  there  was  a  high  color  in  her  face 
and  her  brown  eyes  were  very  bright.  He  thought 
her  astonishingly  pretty  in  her  limp  grace  now  that 
the  hard  tension  of  the  situation  had  relaxed ;  and 
it  sprang  hotly  into  his  desire  to  tell  her  that  she 
was  the  most  charming  and  fascinating  rifleman 
that  ever  lived;  he  conquered  the  desire  with 
difficulty. 

"Was  your  rifle  loaded  ? "  he  asked. 

"Oh,  yes,"  Eleanor  replied.  "Hiram — our 
hired  man  —  was  out  for  rabbits  with  it  yesterday. 
The  cartridges  were  right  beside  it." 

"  It  was  very  good  in  you  to  come  to  my  assist- 
ance," the  young  man  began  to  say,  but  the  elder 
Miss  Hyde  interrupted  him. 

"  I  think  first  I  ought  to  thank  you  for  coming 
to  mine,"  she  put  in. 

King  was  a  trifle  ill  at  ease. 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,"  he  protested  rather  awkwardly. 
"  One  naturally  expects  a  man  to  do  what  he  can 
in  such  a  place,  but  it's  rather  unusual  for  a  girl 


136  THE  LODESTAR 

to  carry  the  situation  through.  Your  sister  really 
deserves  the  credit." 

"Why,  I  think  you  both  deserve  more  credit 
than  I,"  the  younger  girl  replied.  "  You  stood  the 
man  off  alone,  Elizabeth,  until  we  arrived,  and 
then  Mr.  King  fought  him  on  even  terms.  I  had 
the  advantage  of  a  gun." 

"  I  thought  you  said  you  were  defective  in  des- 
perate characters  around  here,"  King  remarked  to 
her. 

"We  have  had  very  few  tramps  hereabouts," 
the  elder  Miss  Hyde  responded.  "They  seldom 
get  so  far  from  the  railroad,  and  we're  not  on  any 
main  road  to  anywhere  —  except  Perkins  Mills." 

The  younger  girl  was  still  sitting  rather  limply 
in  her  chair,  but  her  eyes  brightened  as  she  turned 
toward  the  visitor. 

"  Mr.  King,"  she  said,  "  I  don't  know  that  I'm 
much  of  a  judge,  but  I  thought  you  hit  him  per- 
fectly beautifully." 

Miss  Elizabeth  looked  somewhat  startled,  but 
the  novelist  laughed. 

"  It's  all  in  getting  in  the  first  blow,"  he  said  ; 
"but  I  don't  know  quite  what  else  I  could  have 
done  if  you  hadn't  come  to  the  rescue."  He  turned 
to  the  older  sister.  "  And  you  showed  good  nerve 
in  refusing  to  give  him  anything." 


THE   LODESTAR  137 

"  I  didn't  think  he  looked  hungry,"  said  Miss 
Hyde,  simply. 

"  Yes,  I'm  glad,  too,  that  you  didn't  give  him 
anything,"  Eleanor  said.  "  I  think  it  would  be 
much  nicer  to  give  it  to  Mr.  King,  instead,  don't 
you  ? " 

"  Very  much,"  replied  Miss  Elizabeth.  "  Won't 
you  stay  to  dinner,  Mr.  King  ? " 

The  young  man  laughed  again. 

"  Do  I  look  honestly  and  respectably  hungry  ?  " 
he  inquired.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  this  is  a  rather 
unprofitable  alternative  for  you,  and  not  strictly 
fair  to  one  of  the  parties  engaged  in  the  contest. 
You  always  stood  to  lose  a  dinner;  there  was  no 
way  by  which  you  could  have  gained  anything ; 
and  besides,  if  the  tramp  had  conquered,  would 
you  have  invited  him  to  dinner  in  my  place  ?  "  he 
argued. 

"  We  might  have  had  to,"  replied  Eleanor. 
"  Sometimes  one  is  obliged  to  entertain  —  even 
in  the  country,"  she  said  lightly. 

"  A  somewhat  crude  example  of  social  obliga- 
tions," King  answered.  "  In  that  case  I'm  very 
glad  I  arrived  early,"  he  said  more  seriously  to 
Miss  Elizabeth. 

"  Then  you'll  stay,  won't  you  ?  "  the  older  Miss 
Hyde  asked. 


138  THE    LODESTAR 

"  Thank  you  —  I  should  like  to,  if  you're  sure  it 
won't  make  you  any  trouble,"  he  responded. 

"  I  think  all  the  trouble  for  to-day  is  over.  And 
I'm  very  glad  you  consented  peaceably  —  I  should 
have  insisted  on  your  staying,  anyway  —  the  man 
might  come  back,"  Eleanor  said  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  he  will.  You  see,  he 
didn't  get  anything,  so  it  won't  be  necessary  for 
him  to  make  a  dinner  call,"  the  visitor  remarked 
gravely. 

Meanwhile  Eleanor  had  been  speculating  upon 
possible  ways  in  which  she  might  entertain  her 
guest. 

"  What  would  you  like  to  do  between  now  and 
dinner-time  ? "  she  asked  him. 

King  might  truthfully  have  answered  that  he 
could  think  of  no  preferable  way  of  passing  this 
interim  to  looking  at  her. 

"  What  were  you  thinking  of  doing  ? "  said  he, 
cautiously. 

"  Well,  there's  nothing  very  much  to  see  about 
the  farm,"  Eleanor  said  reflectively.  "  You've 
already  seen  the  barn,  and  you  know  where  the 
axle  grease  is  kept." 

"And  the  jack,"  the  young  man  hastened  to 
add. 

"  Certainly,"  the  girl  conceded.     "  We've  really 


THE   LODESTAR  139 

nothing  especially  decorative  or  amusing  on  the 
place." 

"  Not  pigs  ?  "  said  King.  "  Not  a  single  lovable 
litter  of  fascinating  baby  pigs  ?  " 

"  Not  a  pig,"  said  Miss  Hyde,  mournfully.  "  But 
there  are  the  cows,  you  know." 

"  Ah,  the  cows ! "  the  novelist  responded.  "The 
ones  you  mentioned  before.  The  ones  whose  milk 
is  so  popular." 

"  Yes ;  the  same  ones,"  replied  Eleanor,  seriously. 
"And  they're  all  down  in  a  lot  where  there  are 
a  great  many  marsh  marigolds  —  but  it's  very 
muddy." 

"  Yes,  it's  very  muddy,"  Miss  Elizabeth  agreed. 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  too  muddy,"  said  the  younger 
girl,  with  thoughtful  regret. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  replied  King,  sympathetically. 
"  Not  a  cow  —  not  a  marsh  marigold.  What  a 
pity!" 

"  But  if  we  should  go  up  on  top  of  the  hill  in 
the  north  pasture  lot,  there  is  a  view,"  Eleanor 
proposed.  "  You  can  see  Burnham  from  there." 

"  But  I've  just  come  from  Burnham,"  the  young 
man  protested. 

"  From  the  top  of  the  hill  the  view  also  extends 
a  considerable  distance  in  the  other  direction,"  his 
hostess  remarked  reprovingly.  "  You  can  see 


140  THE  LODESTAR 

Perkins  Mills  at  this  time  of  year  —  before  the 
leaves  are  fully  out." 

King  was  inclined  to  think  that  it  was  a  matter 
of  complete  indifference  to  him  what  else  he  saw, 
so  long  as  he  might  see  this  girl  with  the  smooth 
brown  hair  and  the  soft  voice  and  the  quiet  eyes. 

"  Then  by  all  means  let  us  go  up  on  top  of 
that  hill,"  said  he.  "  Otherwise  we  may  be  out- 
stripped by  the  hurrying  foliage,  and  I  have 
always  possessed  a  flaring,  scarlet  desire  to  gaze 
upon  Perkins  Mills  —  from  a  distance." 

Eleanor  accepted  this  profession  without  com- 
ment. She  opened  the  door. 

"  You  don't  suppose  that  tramp  will  come  back, 
do  you?"  she  inquired  of  Miss  Elizabeth.  "I 
don't  like  to  leave  you  alone  here.  Oh,  well,  it's 
all  right,  anyway  —  there  comes  Hiram,  now." 
The  hired  man  was  seen  entering  the  red  barn. 
"  Come  on,"  she  said  to  the  visitor. 

She  led  the  way  around  the  corner  of  the  house, 
and  across  a  field  bright  emerald  with  winter 
wheat  which  had  sprung  magically  up  in  the 
warmth  of  the  May  sunshine,  and  through  some 
lowered  bars  into  the  north  pasture  lot  which  lay 
steep  and  stony  up  a  long  slanting  hill.  There 
was  a  gusty  breeze  blowing  across  the  sunny  hill- 
side, and  King  noticed  how  it  moulded  the  girl's 


THE   LODESTAR  141 

light  dress  to  her  graceful  figure  and  caught  up  a 
wisp  of  her  smooth  hair  and  carried  it  across  her 
face  and  flecked  the  blood  faintly  to  the  surface 
of  her  clear  skin.  He  thought  her  even  prettier 
than  he  had  thought  her  at  the  first  flash,  when 
she  had  sat  at  the  top  of  the  steps  against  the 
background  of  the  old  house  with  the  afternoon 
sunshine  falling  across  her,  watching  the  yellow 
horse  pull  the  buggy  which  contained  King  and 
Burgess  slowly  up  the  road.  Now  she  went  lightly 
up  the  abrupt  hillside,  and  the  city  man  followed 
on  with  more  difficulty.  The  close-cropped  grass 
had  begun  to  show  a  brighter  tinge,  and  many 
birds  were  calling  from  the  woods  beyond  the  stone 
wall  to  the  west.  White  dotted  along  the  rise 
were  trembling  anemones,  and  over  along  the 
edge  of  the  trees  the  buds  of  wild  azaleas  were 
commencing  to  show  faint  pink.  And  everywhere 
—  by  the  rocks  and  through  the  pasture  and  down 
the  side  of  the  splashing  brook  away  over  to  the 
east  were  violets  —  violets  flung  with  wanton 
generosity  on  the  lap  of  the  earth  from  the  un- 
sparing hand  of  the  springtime,  violets  of  every 
shade  of  blue  from  the  deepest  purple  to  the 
faintest,  lightest  tint  of  delicate  lavender,  —  beauty 
ground-spangled  by  the  careless  profusion  of 
nature. 


142  THE   LODESTAR 

"  And  you  were  speaking  of  marsh  marigolds 
—  mere  marsh  marigolds,"  said  King,  reproach- 
fully. 

Eleanor  turned  her  head  and  gave  a  rather 
approving  look  at  her  companion.  The  man 
who  could  beat  a  brawny,  swaggering  tramp  into 
subjection,  and  immediately  afterward  step  out 
and  dwell  with  a  fine  and  sincere  appreciation 
upon  a  lonely  pasture  lot  dotted  with  vernal 
flowers,  was  gifted  with  a  range  of  temperamental 
temperature  she  could  not  help  but  like. 

"  It  is  nice,  isn't  it?"  she  said,  stopping  at  the 
top  of  the  hill  and  resting  her  hand  on  a  great 
gray  boulder  beneath  which  the  bloodroot  had 
put  forth  its  snowy,  gold-centred  blossoms,  and 
where  the  creamy  sprays  of  whiteheart  and  the 
fragile  saxifrage  were  growing.  The  beauty  of 
the  rough  slope  and  the  grace  of  the  flowers  were 
not  lost  upon  her. 

" '  Nice '  is  absurdly  inadequate ;  it's  simply  beau- 
tiful—  it's  the  awakening  of  the  world-princess," 
King  replied,  but  he  looked  rather  at  the  girl. 
"This  is  part  of  why  I  came." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  Eleanor,  who  did 
not  understand. 

Her  companion  explained. 

"  I've  been  writing  a  story  of  New  England  — 


THE   LODESTAR  143 

I  write  stories  for  my  living  —  and  I  came  up 
here  to  take  a  final  plunge  in  the  atmosphere," 
he  said.  He  swept  his  arm  about  him.  "This 
is  it — I  only  wish  I  could  put  it  on  paper  —  the 
sky  and  the  hills  and  the  sunshine  and  the  whole 
background.  A  good  background  isn't  common 
—  a  background  that  convinces  you  is  scarcer 
yet." 

The  girl  regarded  him  with  quickened  interest. 

"  I  should  think  it  would  be  difficult  to  do  that 
sort  of  thing,"  she  said.  "  What  is  the  name  of 
the  story  to  be  ?  "  she  inquired. 

King  smiled  at  the  essentially  feminine  ques- 
tion, but  he  was  secretly  pleased  because  she 
had  asked  it. 

"I  think  I  shall  call  it  Harmony  Dale  —  that's 
the  name  of  the  girl  in  it,"  he  replied. 

"' Harmony  Dale'  —  I  like  that,"  Eleanor  said 
slowly.  "  Are  you  writing  now,  did  you  say  ? 
How  nearly  finished  is  it  ? "  she  asked. 

"  It's  almost  finished,"  the  novelist  answered. 
"  I  came  up  here  just  to  get  the  inspiration —  if 
one  can  call  it  that  —  for  the  finishing  touches." 

The  girl  looked  thoughtfully  down  the  slanting 
hillside  over  the  bright,  fresh-green  field  of  grow- 
ing wheat  to  where  the  big  red  barn  stood  on  a 
knoll  and  the  old,  low,  white  house  nestled  among 


144  THE   LODESTAR 

the  budding  elm  and  maple  trees,  with  a  ribbon 
of  gray  smoke  curling  out  of  its  brick  chimney 
and  blowing  straight  across  the  clear  blue  sky. 

"  Well,  there  it  all  is  —  take  as  much  as  you 
please,"  she  said  lightly. 

King  let  fly  his  first  arrow. 

"  My  search  for  inspiration  wasn't  limited 
strictly  to  a  matter  of  scenery,"  he  said. 

The  girl  glanced  up  at  him  in  quick  surprise, 
and  then  with  just  a  trace  of  a  frown  her  eyes 
went  down  to  the  ground  when  she  saw  that  he 
was  looking  directly  at  her. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said.  And  collecting  herself,  "  You 
shall  meet  Hiram  at  dinner;  I  think  you'll  find 
Hiram  sufficiently  typical  for  a  chapter." 

The  young  man  was  slightly  disconcerted  by 
this  parry. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  misunderstand  me.  It  would,  I 
think,  be  inexcusably  bad  form  for  me  to  accept 
your  hospitality  and  then  make  material  out  of 
you." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  mean  quite  that,"  said  Eleanor, 
relenting. 

"Besides,"  continued  King,  "neither  you  nor 
your  sister  seem  to  possess  the  singular  and  pe- 
culiar characteristics  demanded  of  the  rural  New 
Englander  in  a  book.  Neither  of  you  says  '  Gosh 


THE   LODESTAR  145 

all  hemlock '  or  '  Gol  ding  it  all,'  and  you  don't 
appear  to  be  intolerant  religiously,  and  I'm  sure 
you  don't  when  at  table  scoop  up  honey  with  your 
knife  blades.  No  New  Englander  would  make 
any  kind  of  a  hit  in  a  book  unless  he  or  she  did  all 
these  things." 

Eleanor  laughed  in  spite  of  herself. 

"I'm  sorry  if  you're  disappointed,"  she  said; 
"and  I  think  it's  quite  time  to  go  back  to  the 
house.  Dinner  will  be  ready." 


VII 


WHEN  Burgess  went  away  from  Hamilton  King's 
rooms,  after  the  novelist's  servant  had  innocently 
disclosed  the  true  reason  for  his  master's  some- 
what furtive  departure,  he  smiled  a  little  to  him- 
self. He  was  not  at  all  jealous,  because  he  never 
seriously  entered  the  lists  to  gain  the  approval  of 
a  maiden's  eyes ;  Burgess  was  too  companionable 
with  men  to  fear  a  lonely  middle  age,  and  for  the 
present  he  held  that  love  was  a  violent  and  unsafe 
exercise  of  the  emotions,  and  shunned  danger  per- 
sistently. And  so  he  was  not  in  the  least  offended 
over  King's  omission  to  notify  him  of  his  intention 
to  revisit  Burnham;  surely  no  obligation  lay  upon 
King  to  make  public  his  plans  for  every  casual  trip 
he  chose  to  take.  Even  though  he  was  convinced 
that  his  friend  had  gone  back  with  the  single  pur- 
pose of  seeing  again  the  girl  they  had  together 
discovered,  he  was  quite  complaisant  and  felt  no 
cause  for  protest.  If  it  was  come  in  King's  jeal- 
ous belief  to  a  contest,  the  novelist  had  taken  no 
unfair  advantage.  They  had  both  of  them  admired 

146 


THE   LODESTAR  147 

Eleanor  Hyde  —  and  King  had  returned  to  Burn- 
ham.  Burgess  could  have  himself  just  as  easily 
done  the  same  thing  if  his  admiration  had  led  him 
so  far.  He  was  not  resentful ;  he  was  merely 
mildly  amused,  because  his  chance  question  had 
so  completely  opened  up  the  line  which  his  friend 
had  taken.  Upon  further  reflection  he  was  struck 
with  the  thought  that  he  (and  perhaps  he  alone) 
realized  the  reason  why  King  had  started  for  New 
England.  King  himself  was  not  overgiven  to  in- 
trospection, and  he  might  have  solemnly  persuaded 
himself  that  he  had  gone  back  to  inundate  himself 
for  purely  literary  purposes  in  the  atmosphere  of 
Burnham.  It  was  by  no  means  impossible  that  he 
had  convinced  himself  of  the  complete  neutrality 
of  his  designs  concerning  Eleanor,  at  the  moment 
he  had  determined  to  leave  New  York.  Burgess, 
strongly  believing  the  very  opposite,  well  under- 
standing King  and  his  former  carelessness  toward 
girls  in  general,  smiled  a  little  over  the  thought. 

A  few  days  later,  while  walking  down  the 
avenue  after  dinner,  he  ran  across  the  novelist, 
who  had  returned  from  his  trip. 

"Hello,  Ham,"  he  said  cordially.  "Back  in 
town  again  ?  " 

King  looked  at  his  friend  with  illogical  suspicion. 

"  Oh,  yes.    Got  back  yesterday,"  he  said.    "  How 


148  THE  LODESTAR 

did  you  know  I'd  been  away  ? "  he  asked  after  a 
slight  pause. 

"  Very  simple  —  did  you  think  I  was  looking  for 
clay  on  your  shoes  or  something  of  that  sort  ?  I 
was  up  at  your  rooms,  and  the  faithful  Griffiths 
said  you  were  out  of  the  city,"  Burgess  answered 
with  a  smile. 

This  explanation  was  received  by  the  novelist  in 
silence.  His  companion  was  somewhat  amused  at 
his  reticence  and  concealment  of  detail,  and  pressed 
the  subject 

"  Where  have  you  been  ? "  he  inquired  blandly. 

"Oh,  looking  around  for  material  —  as  usual," 
King  vaguely  replied. 

"For  the  new  story?  Were  you  up  in  New 
England,  then?"  persisted  Burgess,  his  amuse- 
ment and  his  suspicions  waxing  alike. 

"Yes,"  the  other  man  answered  shortly.  He 
readily  foresaw  that  in  one  more  step  the  definite 
terminus  of  his  journey  would  be  demanded  of 
him.  "  I  went  back  to  Burnham,"  he  volunteered 
curtly. 

His  friend  smiled. 

"  Of  course.  I  quite  forgot.  The  faithful  Grif- 
fiths said  you  had  left  orders  for  your  mail  to  be 
sent  there." 

King  knew  perfectly  well  that  Burgess  had  not 


THE   LODESTAR  149 

quite  forgotten,  but  it  seemed  impolitic  and  super- 
fluous to  voice  this  conviction. 

"  Did  you  have  a  pleasant  time  ?  "  the  questioner 
continued. 

"  Yes,"  said  King. 

"  Did  you  see  Miss  Hyde  ? "  the  inexorable  ex- 
aminer went  on,  inwardly  mirthful  over  his  com- 
panion's reticence. 

"Yes,"  said  King.  "I  happened  to  meet  her 
walking  along  a  road,"  he  explained  carefully. 
"She  asked  after  you." 

"What  an  odd  chance!"  Burgess  remarked. 

"That  she  should  ask  after  you?  I  don't  see 
why.  It  seemed  to  me  only  polite  and  natural," 
replied  the  novelist. 

"  Oh,  no  —  I  meant  your  happening  to  meet 
her  walking  along  a  road,"  his  friend  returned. 
"  By  the  way,  I  stopped  in  at  the  Brintons"  the 
other  evening  and  told  May  Brinton  about  our 
trip  and  about  the  awkward  position  into  which 
her  father  had  gotten  Miss  Hyde,"  he  said. 

At  the  risk  of  betraying  an  interest,  the  novelist 
took  up  the  thread  of  the  topic. 

"  Indeed  ?  That  was  very  good  of  you.  And 
what  did  Miss  Brinton  say  ? " 

"  She  was  extremely  nice  about  it,"  Burgess 
responded.  "  I  suggested  that  the  easiest  way 


150  THE   LODESTAR 

out  would  be  for  her  to  annex  Miss  Hyde  as  a  real 
intimate,  and  back  up  Mr.  Brinton's  unwarranted 
assumption  of  the  two  girls'  intimacy.  Finally  she 
consented." 

His  companion  was  not  enthusiastic. 

"  Well,  the  Brintons  will  start  her  on  the  social 
whirl  with  speed  to  spare  if  they  take  her  up  and 
carry  her  along  with  them,"  he  said  dubiously. 
"You  know  I  warned  you,  before  you  told  Mr. 
Brinton  about  her,  of  the  risk  you  were  running." 

"I  know  you  did  —  you're  a  horrible  pessimist, 
Ham,  but  don't  you  worry,"  replied  the  other  man, 
cheerfully.  "  I  dare  say  she'll  get  on  all  right  in 
that  set ;  it'll  be  a  little  warm  for  her  at  first,  but 
she'll  soon  get  acclimated." 

"  Nice  prospect,"  was  King's  comment. 

"  Oh,  it's  not  such  a  bad  set,"  protested  Miss 
Hyde's  self-appointed  social  promoter.  "  To  be 
sure,  they  have  a  little  more  money  than  they  well 
know  what  to  do  with  —  " 

"And  they're  very  erudite  spenders,  too,"  his 
friend  interrupted. 

"  But  they're  fairly  decent,  all  things  con- 
sidered," Burgess  finished. 

"  '  Fairly  decent '  —  a  nice  qualification  for  de- 
sirability !  "  the  novelist  retorted  scornfully.  "  You 
know  perfectly  well,  Ollie,  that  they're  just  a  bla- 


THE   LODESTAR  151 

tant  gang  of  overfed,  overdressed,  overfmanced  vul- 
garians— cursed  nouveaux  riches  of  the  worst  sort." 

"  Oh,  not  the  worst  sort  —  you  don't  mean 
that,"  his  companion  replied  gently.  "They're 
not  really  so  bad  as  that.  Of  course  they've  all 
of  them  got  money  —  there's  no  denying  that,"  he 
conceded ;  "  some  of  them  have  too  much,  and  a 
good  many  of  them  haven't  had  it  so  long  that 
their  paper  currency  has  gotten  much  mussed; 
but,  after  all,  money's  a  mighty  good  thing  to 
have,  my  son." 

"Perhaps  —  for  some  people,"  King  grudgingly 
admitted. 

"  It  would  be  devilish  inconvenient  for  either 
of  us  not  to  have  any  —  I  know  that,"  his  friend 
stated.  "  And  if  we  had  as  much  as  Brinton  and 
his  crowd,  we  very  likely  wouldn't  spend  it  half  so 
well.  I'm  curious  to  see  how  Miss  Hyde  gets  on 
with  them.  They  ought  to  like  her  —  she's  so 
pretty  and  graceful  and  unaffected,  and  she  seems 
clever,  too." 

"  Oh,  I  fancy  she's  clever  enough,"  agreed  the 
novelist,  with  an  elaborate  affectation  of  careless- 
ness. 

The  insincerity  of  his  indifference  did  not  escape 
the  attention  of  his  companion,  who  was  studying 
him  attentively. 


152  THE   LODESTAR 

"  Perhaps  one  of  those  younger  men  will  marry 
her,"  he  suggested  optimistically,  watching  the 
effect  of  his  words  on  his  companion :  "  Teddy 
Markham,  or  Eliot  Frame,  or  Grosvenor  Chandler, 
or  some  one  of  those  chaps." 

Involuntarily  King's  face  hardened.  The  sus- 
picion that  he  was  being  delicately  drawn  out  did 
not  deter  him  from  expressing  his  opinion  of  this 
contingency. 

"  That  would  be  fine !  "  he  said  with  almost  a 
tang  of  bitterness.  "Teddy  Markham' s  an  amus- 
ing little  fool,  but  he's  shallow  and  conceited  and 
caddish  ;  Eliot  Frame  drinks  enough  to  saturate 
the  Sahara,  and  he'll  never  do  anything  in  the 
world  after  he  gets  too  fat  to  play  polo  —  besides, 
he's  devoted  to  young  Pauline  Rawlins,  who's 
much  too  good  for  him ;  and  I  don't  know 
Chandler  at  all,  but  if  he  measures  down  to  the 
other  two,  he's  a  pretty  fierce  candidate  for  a 
nice  girl." 

Burgess  was  really  startled  by  the  venom  in  his 
friend's  tones.  He  glanced  at  him  in  surprise. 

"Well,  if  she's  clever  —  and  you  say  she  is  — 
she'll  be  able  to  look  out  for  herself,"  he  replied. 
"  And  maybe  Mr.  Brinton  himself  will  fancy  her 
and  beat  out  the  younger  set;  he's  a  formidable 
competitor  in  almost  any  game.  He  seemed  to 


THE   LODESTAR  153 

like  her  pretty  keenly  —  and  he's  decent  enough, 
as  you  yourself  admitted." 

"  I  suppose  he  can  count  on  his  daughter's 
assistance,"  suggested  the  novelist. 

"Well,  there  is  a  slight  hitch  there,"  his  com- 
panion admitted.  "  I  presume  that  if  May  sus- 
pected that  her  father  was  contemplating  anything 
of  that  sort,  friendly  relations  between  her  and 
Miss  Hyde  would  be  smashed  with  astonishing 
celerity.  The  stepmother  motif  jangles  on  May 
badly.  And,  by  the  way,  she  said  she  would  like 
to  meet  you  some  time ;  she  said  I  might  bring 
you  up  to  call." 

King  reflected  that  this  might  make  toward 
strengthening  the  connections  between  him  and 
the  town  of  Burnham.  Besides,  he  felt  that  he 
had  displayed  an  over-interest  in  the  affairs  of  Miss 
Hyde,  and  that  he  could  counteract  that  impression 
upon  Burgess  by  evincing  an  interest  elsewhere. 

"  Thank  you  ;  I  should  like  to  know  her.  They 
say  she's  very  attractive,"  he  replied. 

"  Good !  When  would  you  like  to  go  ?  "  Burgess 
asked. 

"  Oh,  almost  any  time,"  replied  his  friend. 

The  other  man  took  out  his  watch. 

"  How  about  right  now  ?  "  said  he.  "  It's  only 
half-past  eight." 


154  THE   LODESTAR 

"  All  right,"  the  novelist  answered,  after  reflect- 
ing a  moment.  Burgess  beckoned  to  the  driver  of 
a  hansom  which  was  cruising  along  the  curb,  and 
ten  minutes  later  they  had  drawn  up  before  the 
residence  of  the  Brintons.  The  next  moment 
they  fell  into  a  curious  difficulty. 

Mr.  Brinton's  front  door  swung  to  admit 
them  almost  as  soon  as  Burgess  had  pressed 
the  electric  button,  and  the  figure  of  the  butler 
was  disclosed  in  the  doorway.  But  the  official 
dignity  of  this  ponderous  domestic  was  quite  lack- 
ing, the  young  men  were  surprised  to  note,  and 
his  attitude  betokened  frightened  helplessness, 
and  he  recognized  one  of  the  visitors  with  evident 
relief. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Burgess ! "  he  began  to  say,  and  he 
gave  a  nervous  glance  over  his  shoulder  into  the 
drawing-room,  and  lowered  his  voice.  Following 
his  glance  the  two  callers  could  see  away  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  room  the  broad  back  of  a  man's 
figure.  The  first  thought  that  flashed  upon  each 
of  them  was  that  some  anarchist,  attracted  by  Mr. 
Brinton's  reputation  and  display  of  wealth,  had 
managed  to  force  his  way  into  the  home  of  the 
millionnaire. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  —  quick !  "  Burgess  ex- 
claimed softly  in  the  butler's  ear. 


THE   LODESTAR  155 

The  servant  nodded  toward  the  entrance  of  the 
drawing-room. 

"  It's  Mr.  Frame,  sir,"  he  responded  in  low, 
scared  tones;  "Mr.  Eliot  Frame,  sir." 

Both  of  the  visitors  felt  an  instant  jump  of  relief ; 
the  anarchist  theory  at  least  could  be  discarded. 
Eliot  Frame  was  a  popular  young  man  about  town, 
whose  presence  in  the  house  was  certainly  not 
inexplicable ;  he  was  known  to  be  a  friend  of  the 
Brintons. 

"  Well,  what's  the  trouble  ? "  Burgess  asked. 

"  Mr.  Frame  just  came  in,"  the  butler  answered, 
"  and  I  took  up  his  card  to  Miss  Brinton ;  and  I 
didn't  notice  anything  wrong,  sir,  until  I  came 
back  and  said  Miss  Brinton  was  dressing  to  go 
out  but  would  be  down  directly ;  and  then  I  saw 
Mr.  Frame  had  been  —  had  been  drinking." 

"  Drinking  ?     He's  drunk  ? "  said  Burgess. 

The  servant  was  glad  to  use  the  term  he  hesi- 
tated to  introduce. 

"  Yes,  sir,  he's  very  drunk.  And  when  I  asked 
him  to  go  away,  he  said  he'd  smash  my  head ;  and 
he  wouldn't  let  me  go  to  tell  Miss  Brinton,  and 
just  then  you  rang  the  bell,  sir,  and  I  opened  the 
door  and  he  stepped  in  there." 

King  and  Burgess  glanced  at  each  other  with  a 
mixture  of  apprehension  and  disgust. 


156  THE   LODESTAR 

"  And  if  Miss  Brinton  comes  down  and  sees  him 
this  way,  I  shall  lose  my  place  for  letting  him  in  — 
I  ought  to  lose  it,  sir,"  the  man  said  in  real  distress. 
"What  shall  I  do,  sir?" 

"•Wait  a  moment,"  Burgess  replied.  "You 
needn't  take  our  cards  to  Miss  Brinton.  Stay 
here,  and  if  she  comes  down,  ask  her  not  to  come 
into  the  drawing-room  —  to  go  back  for  a  moment." 
He  reflected  that,  although  Frame  was  a  big, 
athletic  young  fellow,  he  could  doubtless  be 
handled,  if  it  should  come  to  physical  force,  by 
King,  himself,  and  the  butler  in  alliance ;  and  yet 
he  disliked  the  idea  of  entering  upon  an  actual 
fight  in  the  capitalist's  drawing-room,  with  the 
very  strong  likelihood  that  the  young  hostess 
would  appear  in  the  midst  of  it.  It  was  an  un- 
savory possibility  decidedly  repugnant  to  both  the 
visitors. 

"  You  stay  here  in  the  hall,"  said  Burgess  to  the 
butler.  He  hoped  that  Miss  Brinton  was  making 
a  protracted  and  elaborate  toilet.  "We'll  go  in 
and  try  to  persuade  him  to  get  out  of  the  house," 
he  said  to  King,  and  they  entered  the  room  to- 
gether. 

Eliot  Frame  was  standing  at  the  farther  end, 
leaning  rather  unsteadily  over  the  back  of  a  chair 
and  apparently  studying  with  remarkable  attention, 


THE    LODESTAR  157 

but  with  glassy  and  unseeing  eyes,  a  painting  in 
which  ordinarily  he  would  not  have  felt  the  slight- 
est interest.  He  turned  around  when  he  heard 
footsteps  coming  down  the  room. 

"  Why,  h'lo,  Ollie  !  "  His  face  was  flushed  and 
he  spoke  thickly. 

"  Good  evening,  Eliot,"  Burgess  replied.  "  You 
know  Mr.  King,  don't  you  ? " 

Frame  leered  affably  at  the  novelist. 

"Know  him?  Sure  know  him.  H'lo,  King, 
glad  see  you.  Jus'  finish'  one  'v  your  books  yes'- 
day.  Damn  popular  book  —  damn  silly  story,  / 
thought.  Nev'  min'  —  bett'r  luck  nex'  time,  ol' 
man." 

Burgess  had  no  time  to  spare  over  appreci- 
ating this  frank  criticism  of  his  companion's 
literary  work;  Miss  Brinton  might  appear  at  any 
moment. 

"  Look  here,  Eliot,"  he  said  sharply,  "  I  don't 
know  how  you  happened  to  come  here  this  even- 
ing, but  you  had  no  business  to  come,  and  you 
ought  to  have  known  better.  Now  if  you're  a 
gentleman,  you  won't  make  any  fuss,  but  you'll 
get  out  right  away.  You're  in  no  condition  to 
make  a  call ;  don't  you  know  you're  drunk  ?  " 

Frame  was  not  in  the  least  offended  but  by  no 
means  complaisant. 


158  THE   LODESTAR 

"  Came  here  make  dinner  call,"  he  responded 
argumentatively.  "  Coin'  to  make  it.  Easy 
enough  say  drunk  —  /  know  bett'r.  Nottal. 
Had  drink,  admit,  two  drinks,  fifty  drinks,  per- 
haps, but  not  drunk.  Coin'  shtay  see  May." 

"  You're  in  no  condition  to  see  any  one,"  said 
Burgess.  "  You  can't  see  her." 

"  Can'  see  her  ?  Easy  enough  say  can'  see  her. 
Coin'  shtay  see  her.  You  wan'  me  get  out  so  you 
see  her  ? "  said  the  other  young  man,  with  thick 
suspicion. 

Burgess  was  desperate ;  all  this  conversation 
was  taking  up  time.  He  could  not  permit  himself 
to  be  drawn  into  a  verbose  argument ;  it  was  bet- 
ter far  to  concede  almost  anything  and  get  the 
man  away.  He  now  realized  that  he  should  have 
sent  the  butler  to  warn  Miss  Brinton  to  stay  up- 
stairs a  few  minutes ;  he  wondered  why  it  had  not 
occurred  to  King  to  do  this. 

"  You  f 'lers  wan'  me  to  get  out  so  you  see  her," 
said  Frame,  with  deep  alcoholic  sagacity.  "  Foxy 
boys.  But  can't  fool  baby  Eliot  —  what?"  He 
sat  down  heavily  in  a  large  chair.  "  Ex'lent  plot 
f'r  a  novel,"  he  remarked  politely  but  somewhat 
incoherently  to  King. 

A  plan  came  into  the  mind  of  Burgess. 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  protested.     "  I  just  heard  you 


THE  LODESTAR  159 

were  here  and  stopped  in  to  take  you  down  to  the 
club.  There  are  a  lot  of  chaps  down  there,  and 
they  said  if  I  saw  you  to  bring  you  back." 

"  Down  at  club  ?  Who  ? "  Frame  asked, 
wavering  in  his  resolution. 

Burgess  named  them. 

"  B'lieve  I'll  go,"  said  the  young  man,  with  tipsy 
reflectiveness.  With  a  tremendous  effort  to  ap- 
pear keenly  alert  he  looked  at  the  others.  "  You 
both  come  along  ? "  he  asked  warily. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Burgess,  with  a  depth  of  gratifi- 
cation he  did  not  attempt  to  conceal ;  "  come 


on. 
«« > 


LI  right  —  come  on,"  said  the  inebriated  one, 
now  convinced,  getting  to  his  feet  with  an  effort. 

"  Get  his  coat  and  hat,"  King  said  in  a  low  voice 
to  the  butler. 

They  assisted  him  into  his  coat  and  put  his  hat 
into  his  hand,  and  Burgess  took  hold  of  his  arm. 
Frame  slightly  resented  this  assistance,  but  finally, 
under  guidance  of  his  friend,  he  lurched  unsteadily 
out  into  the  hall.  He  seemed  to  be  getting  drunker ; 
it  was  difficult  to  see  how  the  butler  could  have 
helped  but  notice  his  condition  when  he  arrived. 
At  the  front  door  there  was  a  hitch ;  an  idea 
occurred  to  the  intoxicated  outgoer. 

"  Say,"  he   remarked  not  irrationally,    "  what'll 


160  THE   LODESTAR 

May  think  ?  Sent  up  card  to  May.  Got  to  shtay 
see  her  'n'  explain  —  sorry,  called  away  club  — 
'stremely  'mportn'  —  honor  at  stake." 

King  barely  choked  down  a  laugh  at  this 
scarcely  lucid  or  convincing  explanation  of 
Frame's  departure,  but  Burgess  was  in  haste. 

"  Oh,  come  along,  Eliot,"  he  said.  "  That'll  be 
all  right.  You  can  tell  her  to-morrow,  or,  if  you 
like,  I'll  telephone  her  from  the  club." 

The  inebriated  one  hung  back  with  heavy  ob- 
stinacy ;  he  was  not  satisfied. 

"  Won'  do,"  said  he,  firmly,  planting  his  feet 
apart.  "  Got  shtay  'xplain  May  'bout  why  leav- 
ing —  what  ? "  A  sudden  plan  came  into  his  fud- 
dled mind;  he  waved  an  unsteady  arm  at  King, 
beaming  at  him  from  bloodshot  eyes. 

"You  shtay,"  he  directed.  "Jus'  th'  man  'n 
right  place.  You  shtay  'xplain  May  'bout  my 
honor  at  stake." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  the  novelist,  desperately. 
"Go  ahead  —  I'll  stay."  He  purposed  waiting 
until  the  man  got  down  the  steps  and  out  on  the 
sidewalk,  and  then  making  good  his  escape. 

"  Good,"  said  the  drunken  man,  very  much 
pleased.  "You  tell  her  all  'bout  my  honor  at 
stake,"  he  commanded.  "  Tell  her  any  ol'  thing 
you  please,"  he  said  genially.  "  Goo'  night."  He 


THE   LODESTAR  l6l 

permitted  himself  to  be  led  through  the  doorway, 
and  with  a  feeling  of  relief  King  heard  the  heavy 
door  click  shut.  He  waited  a  moment  —  but  he 
waited  too  long.  As  he  stood  with  his  hand  on 
the  door-knob  a  young  lady  in  evening  dress  began 
to  descend  the  stairs.  Below  her  she  caught  sight 
of  a  man  standing  with  his  back  turned  toward 
her,  and  she  not  unnaturally  assumed  him  to  be 
the  caller  who  had  sent  his  card  to  her.  It  was 
impossible  for  King  to  open  the  door  and  walk 
out;  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  remain  and 
explain  his  presence  in  the  house. 

"  Good  evening,  Eliot,"  the  girl  called  down. 
"  Why  are  you  standing  out  here  ?  Why  didn't 
you  go  in  and  sit  down  ? " 

King  felt  a  hot  wave  of  confusion  go  over  him, 
and  he  turned  toward  the  butler  with  a  vague  idea 
of  telling  the  girl  that  he  had  gotten  into  the  house 
by  a  mistake,  a  statement  he  knew  the  servant 
would  gladly  corroborate.  To  his  distress  the  man 
had  vanished. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  had  to  keep  you  waiting  so  long," 
Miss  Brinton  commenced  to  say,  when  King  turned 
and  faced  her,  and  she  perceived  he  was  not  the 
man  whom  she  had  thought  herself  to  be  address- 
ing. She  flushed  with  annoyance. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said  hastily ;  then, 


1 62  THE   LODESTAR 

noticing  his  hesitation,  "whom  did  you  wish  to 
see  ?  "  she  asked. 

The  novelist  looked  rather  helplessly  about  him  ; 
escape  was  not  to  be  considered. 

"  Is  this  —  are  you  Miss  Brinton  ? "  he  inquired 
with  hesitation. 

The  girl  had  come  down  to  the  bottom  of  the 
stairs,  and  she  stood  there,  regarding  him  with  a 
little  perplexity  but  quite  coolly. 

"Yes  ;  I  am  Miss  Brinton,"  she  replied.  There 
was  an  indefinable,  latent  suspicion  in  her  tones. 
"  You  wish  to  see  me  ? " 

Truly  nothing  could  have  been  more  distant 
from  King's  desire.  But  the  butler  had  evidently 
gone,  not  to  return. 

"I  shall  have  to  beg  your  pardon  —  for  what 
looks  like  an  intrusion,"  he  said.  "  My  name  is 
King  —  Hamilton  King." 

The  suspicion  on  the  face  of  the  young  lady 
cleared  a  little,  but  a  very  puzzled  look  took  its 
place.  She  surveyed  the  stranger  at  a  glance, 
and  satisfied  herself  that,  whoever  he  might  be,  he 
looked  at  all  events  a  gentleman;  his  voice  and 
manners  and  appearance  bore  it  out  convincingly. 
This  granted,  he  must  needs  be  the  man  whom  he 
represented  himself  to  be.  But  how  came  Ham- 
ilton King  alone  into  the  Brinton  house,  and 


THE   LODESTAR  163 

evidently  quite  ready  to  go  away  without  an 
explanation  ? 

"  You  are  Mr.  King  ? "  she  said.  "  But  I  got 
the  card  of  Eliot  Frame." 

The  novelist  felt  that  an  adequate  explanation 
of  his  presence  and  the  disappearance  of  the  other 
man  was  simply  out  of  the  question. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  He  could  not  think  of  any- 
thing to  add  to  the  monosyllable. 

Miss  Brinton  conceived  a  theory. 

"  Did  you  send  up  one  of  Mr.  Frame's  cards  by 
mistake  ?  "  she  inquired. 

For  an  instant  King  felt  a  flash  of  hope  —  until 
he  remembered  that  this  would  not  account  for  his 
own  presence,  for  he  had  no  excuse  for  coming 
alone  to  see  her.  Even  so,  perhaps  he  could 
invent  some  clumsy  excuse  for  coming  to  the 
house,  but  her  next  words  dissuaded  him  from  this 
course. 

"  Eliot  said  he  might  call  this  evening." 

The  visitor  decided  to  disclose  a  part  of  the  truth. 

"  He  was  here." 

Miss  Brinton's  surprise  increased. 

"  Was  here  ?     Why  did  he  go  away  ?  " 

"  He  wasn't  well  —  he  was  suddenly  taken  ill. 
Oliver  Burgess  brought  me  here  —  you  had  kindly 
told  him  he  might,  I  believe  —  and  when  we  arrived 


1 64  THE   LODESTAR 

we  found  him  so,  and  Burgess  took  him  off  —  to  a 
doctor.  They  asked  me  to  stay  and  tell  you." 

The  girl  was  startled. 

"  Eliot  ill !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Why  didn't  you 
leave  him  here  and  send  for  a  doctor  ?  And  when 
I  came  down  you  acted  as  though  you  were  just 
about  to  go  away.  Are  you  really  Hamilton  King  ? 
I  don't  quite  understand  all  this." 

"  It's  all  quite  true,"  the  visitor  assured  her. 
"  Frame  was  ill  and  Burgess  took  him  away.  And 
I  am  Hamilton  King ;  I  can  show  you  my  watch 
or  my  card-case  if  you  wish  me  to  prove  my  iden- 
tity," he  added  rather  aggrievedly. 

"Oh,  no,"  his  hostess  protested  quickly.  She 
considered  carefully  what  he  had  last  said.  Frame 
had  been  ill  and  Burgess  had  taken  him  away.  A 
light  broke  upon  her;  she  regarded  King  atten- 
tively. "  Was  Eliot  drunk  ?  "  she  inquired. 

The  novelist  felt  a  jerk  of  astonishment  at  the 
matter-of-fact  way  in  which  this  query  had  been 
delivered  by  this  apparently  refined  young  girl. 
He  was  silent 

"  If  he  was  drunk,  I  think  you  might  just  as  well 
say  so,"  remarked  Miss  Brinton,  with  a  smile ; 
"because  that  would  explain  everything." 

Her  guest  felt  that  a  further  concealment  of 
the  truth  was  futile.  Evidently  the  girl  was  ac- 


"  '  IF    HE    WAS    DRCNK,    1    THINK    YOU    MIGHT    JL'ST    AS    WELL    SAY    SO.' 


THE  LODESTAR  165 

quainted  with  Frame's  failings  and  would  not  be 
especially  shocked  over  the  disclosure  of  what  had 
occurred. 

"And  I  had  warned  him  never  to  come  here 
drunk,"  said  the  young  hostess,  with  slight 
reproach. 

"  Well,  he  was,"  the  novelist  asserted  curtly. 

This  statement  seemed  to  afford  Miss  Brinton 
both  gratification  and  relief. 

"  I  thought  so,"  she  said.  "  And  so  you  and 
Oliver  Burgess  had  to  put  him  out.  Did  you  have 
a  bad  time  ?  —  I  didn't  hear  any  noise.  It  was  very 
stupid  of  Banks  to  let  him  in." 

King  had  not  yet  recovered  from  his  wonder  over 
the  easy  liberality  of  Miss  Brinton's  evident  atti- 
tude concerning  the  subject  of  intoxication  in  her 
friends. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right;  it  wasn't  the  slightest 
trouble,"  he  answered.  "  Burgess  persuaded  him 
to  go,  and  he  went  right  along." 

"Well,  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  both  of  you  — 
you  and  Mr.  Burgess,"  said  the  girl.  She  re- 
membered her  burden  of  hospitality.  "  And  now 
that  this  is  all  satisfactorily  explained,  won't  you 
come  in  ?  I'm  awfully  glad  to  know  you." 

King  thought  her  satisfaction  strangely  gained, 
but  he  was  quite  willing  to  stay. 


1 66  THE   LODESTAR 

"  I'm  not  keeping  you  from  anything  ? "  he 
hazarded,  noting  her  evening  gown. 

"  I'm  going  on  to  the  Arnold  Parkers'  pretty  soon 
—  they're  giving  a  good-by  ball  before  they  start 
around  the  world  in  Mr.  Wheeler's  yacht ;  but  I 
don't  have  to  go  for  fifteen  minutes  —  unless  yon 
put  me  out  as  you  did  Eliot,"  said  his  hostess, 
glancing  at  the  tall  hall  clock,  and  she  led  the  way 
into  the  drawing-room.  "  I  think  this  is  good 
fun,"  she  said  as  she  seated  herself.  "  Now  we're 
exactly  where  we  would  have  been  if  Oliver  Bur- 
gess had  formally  and  properly  introduced  us  and 
then  fled,  but  we  really  know  each  other  ever  so 
much  better." 

King  laughed. 

"  That's  certainly  true,"  he  said.  "  For  besides 
a  great  deal  I've  heard  about  you,  I've  found  out 
for  myself  several  things  in  the  last  minute.  I've 
found  out  that  you  are  not  easily  disturbed  by  an 
emergency,  and  that  you  are  courteous  to  respect- 
able-looking intruders,  and  that  your  views  upon 
intemperance  are  far  from  puritanical,  when  you 
don't  absolutely  meet  it  face  to  face." 

"Well,  I  didn't  think  you  were  a  sneak-thief, 
because  you  didn't  run,  so  I  had  no  cause  to  be 
excited,"  said  Miss  Brinton,  in  reply;  "and  I'd 
told  Ollie  Burgess  he  might  bring  you  here, — 


THE   LODESTAR  167 

which  he  did,  —  so  I  couldn't  very  well  order  you 
out;  and  as  for  the  views  on  intemperance,  don't 
you  think  I  know  that  Eliot  Frame  gets  drunk  ? " 

King  was  on  the  point  of  suggesting  that  had 
she  arrived  on  the  scene  one  minute  earlier,  the 
demonstration  of  her  friend's  alcoholic  propensities 
would  have  been  thoroughly  satisfactory  to  the 
most  sceptical  of  her  moods.  He  seated  himself 
and  looked  fairly  at  her  for  the  first  time.  As  she 
sat,  posed  a  little  recklessly,  with  her  white  gown 
contrasting  strikingly  with  the  dark  background 
and  her  black  eyes  alight  and  challenging,  he 
thought  her  decidedly  pretty.  But  to  his  mind, 
for  all  May  Brinton  possessed  the  poise  of  pride 
in  a  beauty  she  was  ready  to  assert  to  the  world, 
she  lacked  the  quiet  grace  and  the  unconscious, 
girlish  charm  of  Eleanor  Hyde.  It  seemed  to  him 
that,  while  they  were  both  of  them  attractive,  they 
were  very  antitheses  of  attraction. 

"  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  your  father  last 
week,"  King  said,  swinging  the  subject  away  from 
the  luckless  Frame. 

"  Yes.  Up  in  Burnham.  Ollie  Burgess  told 
me  about  it.  I  hear  that  papa  distinguished  him- 
self," the  young  hostess  replied. 

"  He  certainly  did,"  said  the  caller.  "  He  took 
hold  of  a  Methodist  fair  and  turned  it  into  an 


1 68  THE  LODESTAR 

African  vaudeville  with  the  assistance  of  his  train 
crew,  and  to  judge  from  the  success  of  his  efforts 
upon  one  denomination,  I  should  say  that  in  three 
days  more  your  respected  parent  would  have 
demoralized  the  entire  community.  If  he  spends 
much  time  in  Burnham  this  summer  he'll  be  for- 
tunate if  he  gets  off  without  being  elected  chair- 
man of  the  town  council,  president  of  the  village 
improvement  society,  and  local  delegate  to  all  the 
good  roads  conventions,  and  things  of  that  sort. 
In  fact,  I  think  your  father  will  have  some  difficulty 
in  declining  all  the  honorable  and  strictly  unre- 
munerative  offices  the  town  affords." 

"  If  papa  starts  in  he's  hard  to  stop,"  replied 
Miss  Brinton,  with  a  smile. 

"  And  I  met  your  friend,  Miss  Hyde,  too,"  said 
the  novelist. 

His  hostess  was  not  particularly  pleased  by  the 
close  association  of  the  names  of  her  father  and 
her  schoolmate.  She  frowned  almost  impercepti- 
bly, but,  in  accord  with  her  promise  to  Burgess, 
she  felt  it  needful  to  assume  the  position  of 
friendliness. 

"  Oh,  yes  —  Eleanor  Hyde,"  she  replied.  "  Isn't 
it  pleasant  for  me  that  she  will  be  there?  I've 
hardly  seen  her  since  I  left  Allingwood.  How 
did  you  like  her?" 


THE   LODESTAR  169 

"  I  liked  her  very  much  indeed,"  said  King,  with 
an  under  energy  to  the  way  in  which  his  approval 
was  voiced  which  caught  the  girl's  attention.  She 
sat  up  more  stiffly  in  the  big,  dark  chair,  and  her 
bright  eyes  seemed  to  contract  a  little.  Was  it 
that  May  Brinton  disliked  to  share  admiration  with 
any  girl,  or  did  she  see  down  the  future  that  some 
day  the  country  girl  might  become  unconsciously 
a  bar  against  her  happiness  ? 

"  Yes  —  she's  very  attractive,"  she  conceded  with 
positive  reluctance. 

"  Isn't  she,  though  ? "  said  King,  blundering 
badly  in  his  for  once  tactless  enthusiasm. 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Brinton,  curtly  and  icily. 


VIII 

JOHN  S.  BRINTON  came  out  on  the  piazza  of  his 
country  place  and  stood  with  both  hands  in  his 
pockets,  his  feet  braced  a  little  apart,  and  his  head 
thrown  slightly  back  —  the  attitude  he  assumed 
when  dictating  to  a  stenographer  or  a  board  of 
directors.  He  looked  out  over  the  wide  green 
slope  of  turf  which  was  still  aflash  in  the  sunlight 
with  morning  dew.  But  for  the  singing  of  birds 
about  the  place,  and  in  the  house  back  of  him  the 
rattle  of  dishes  where  servants  were  setting  the 
table  in  the  breakfast  room,  it  was  very  still.  No 
breath  of  breeze  stirred;  all  the  flowers  hung 
listlessly  in  the  early  sunshine ;  the  air  was  soft 
and  sweet. 

Unluckily  the  beauty  of  all  this  was  wholly  lost 
on  Mr.  Brinton.  Nature  was  far  too  restful  for 
his  practical  energy ;  and  he  did  not  care  for  any- 
thing beyond  what  a  poor  man  might  not  possess 
or  a  rich  man  buy.  At  any  rate  he  positively 
declined  to  evince  even  a  spurious  admiration  for 
scenic  and  atmospheric  conditions  while  his 

170 


THE   LODESTAR  I /I 

stomach  was  empty;  at  eight-fifteen  in  the  morn- 
ing the  call  of  a  catbird  did  not  appeal  to  him 
with  one-half  the  genuine  pleasure  that  the  smell 
of  a  broiling  beefsteak  did ;  he  wanted  his  break- 
fast, and  yet  he  did  not  wish  to  eat  it  alone. 

But  he  was  encouraged  by  hearing  from  upstairs 
the  sounds  of  windows  being  lowered  and  feet 
moving  about.  Evidently  some  dauntless  soul  had 
determined  that  eight  o'clock  was  a  plausible  ris- 
ing hour.  Mr.  Brinton  reflected  with  a  feeling  of 
slight  irritation  that  the  enterprise  of  the  people 
he  had  brought  to  Burnham  was  certainly  not 
extended  in  the  direction  of  getting  up  with  the 
sun ;  on  the  contrary  his  house  party  seemed  to 
display  an  almost  abnormal  caution  against  pre- 
mature awakening.  He  took  out  his  watch  —  a 
split-second  repeater  with  most  unexpected  attach- 
ments —  and  shut  it  again  with  an  impatient  click. 
Twenty  minutes  after  eight!  At  length  there 
came  the  noise  of  some  one  descending  the  stair- 
way, of  a  match  being  struck  in  the  hall,  and  the 
first  of  Mr.  Brinton's  guests  appeared.  Stuffy 
Smith  came  out  on  the  piazza.,  drawing  the  smoke 
of  his  matinal  cigarette  deeply  into  his  lungs. 

Stuffy  Smith  was  a  chunky  young  man  with 
molasses-colored  hair  which  he  parted  exactly  in 
the  centre  and  licked  straight  down  to  each  side. 


172  THE   LODESTAR 

He  possessed  a  sandy  complexion,  a  large  nose, 
round,  pale  blue  eyes,  clothes  of  pronounced  and 
unbecoming  checks,  and  a  willingness,  which  at 
times  stretched  into  a  positive  anxiety,  to  make 
himself  agreeable.  Although  by  no  means  top- 
heavy  with  intellect,  he  had  managed  after  pro- 
tracted efforts  to  graduate  from  Princeton,  where 
he  had  displayed  considerable  proficiency  in  ma- 
nipulating a  banjo,  and  in  nothing  else.  Most 
people  ascribed  his  nickname  to  an  academic 
foundation;  this  was  false — it  depicted  no  char- 
acteristic of  its  owner,  but  was  legitimately  abbre- 
viated from  Sturtevant.  And  as  no  one  by  any 
chance  called  him  Sturtevant  except  his  mother 
(with  whom  he  was  never  seen),  the  common  sup- 
position of  his  nickname  was  quite  excusable. 

"Hello,  Stuffy!"  said  Mr.  Brinton.  "Sleep 
well?" 

"  Fine,  Mr.  Brinton,"  answered  the  chunky 
youth.  "My  eyes  shut  right  up  with  a  click, 
and  I  slept  like  a  dead  horse.  How  about  you, 
sir  ? " 

"  Oh,  so-so,"  his  host  conceded.  "  Ready  for  a 
bite  of  breakfast  ? " 

As  Mr.  Smith  was  invariably  ready  for  any  pur- 
suit which  did  not  necessitate  the  employment  of 
intellect,  the  morning  meal  was  naturally  no 


THE   LODESTAR  173 

exception.  He  took  one  long  last  inhale  of  the 
cigarette,  snapped  it  rather  regretfully  on  to  the 
lawn,  and  followed  his  commander  into  the  break- 
fast room.  And  just  as  they  had  seated  themselves 
at  the  table,  the  next  members  of  the  party  made 
their  appearance. 

The  presence  of  the  Rawlins  sisters  at  the 
Brinton  house  may,  perhaps,  demand  some  expla- 
nation. For  a  number  of  generations  the  Rawlins 
family  had  been  more  or  less  famous  in  New  York 
for  its  shuddering  exclusiveness.  An  invitation  to 
the  Rawlins  ball,  which  each  year  the  head  of  the 
clan  gave,  was  eagerly  besought  by  every  social 
aspirant;  the  ball  itself  was  usually  desperately 
dull  and  hideously  stupid  with  respectability  and 
formality,  but  one's  very  presence  there  seemed  to 
be  considered  overwhelming  evidence  —  almost  a 
positive  guarantee  —  of  one's  social  desirability. 
But  the  pride  of  Mr.  Wilhelmus  Rawlins  had  been 
irritated  by  the  assault  upon  society  of  the  modern 
millionnaires,  and  he  had  unwisely  attempted  to 
compete  with  them  on  their  own  ground.  In  this 
ill-advised  attempt  he  had  made  reckless  invest- 
ments, which  had  turned  out  very  badly,  and  the 
outcome  of  the  matter  was  that  he  lost  almost  all 
the  family  property  and  was  left  with  scarcely 
anything  but  the  unsupported  and  tottering  dignity 


174  THE   LODESTAR 

of  an  empty  name.  In  the  midst  of  his  humilia- 
tions he  died.  His  widow  accepted  the  situation 
with  considerable  fortitude,  and,  reefing  all  sail, 
went  about  on  a  surprisingly  practical  tack.  She 
was  clever  enough  to  foresee  the  coming  ascend- 
ancy of  the  set  of  people  who  had  overthrown  her 
husband,  and  although  it  was  of  no  advantage  to 
her  (and  too  late,  besides)  to  join  them  in  their 
rise,  she  determined  that  her  two  daughters  should 
share  their  future  success.  So  she  had  boldly 
taken  the  girls  out  of  the  old  Knickerbocker  circle 
and  planted  them  among  the  very  people  who  had 
upset  her  husband  and  whose  new  gains  had  in  a 
measure  been  her  own  loss.  There  were  those 
who  unkindly  said  that  Mrs.  Rawlins,  seeing  no 
other  way  of  recovering  the  family  fortune,  had 
cold-bloodedly  determined  to  marry  her  daughters 
among  those  who  had  gained  it ;  some  went  so  far 
as  to  assert  that,  not  content  with  losing  the  family's 
property,  she  was  handing  over  its  honorable  name 
to  the  same  upstarts;  it  may  have  been  Mrs. 
Rawlins's  secret  opinion  that  she  was  contemplating 
a  fair  exchange.  At  any  rate  Alice  and  Pauline 
were  readily  welcomed  in  the  ranks  of  the  newly 
rich,  whom  they  found  not  nearly  so  much  to  their 
dislike  as  they  had  apprehended. 

"  Ah,"  said  Mr.  Brinton,  "  up  bright  and  early, 


THE   LODESTAR  175 

girls  ?  Fresh  as  roses,  both  of  you  —  hey,  Stuffy  ? " 
he  commented  genially. 

The  slightly  disconcerted  Smith,  whose  embar- 
rassment was  augmented  by  the  fact  that  he 
tremendously  admired  Miss  Alice  and  by  the 
latent  conviction  that  she  covertly  despised  him, 
added  to  the  knowledge  that  Miss  Pauline  always 
openly  laughed  at  him,  hurriedly  rose,  dropping 
his  napkin  on  the  floor,  and  said  good  morning. 
The  Rawlins  sisters,  who  honestly  liked  Mr.  Brin- 
ton  as  a  type  of  man  of  whom  up  to  the  time  of 
their  d6but  they  had  had  no  sight,  sat  down  quietly 
and  commenced  to  eat  strawberries  and  cream, 
making  appropriate  remarks  about  the  loveliness 
of  the  weather. 

"  It's  the  goods  all  right,  isn't  it  ? "  agreed  their 
host.  "  Now  you  wouldn't  believe,"  he  added, 
"  that  Stuffy,  here,  and  I  have  been  on  a  ten-mile 
horseback  ride  already,  just  to  give  us  an  appetite 
for  breakfast." 

And  as  the  two  young  ladies  were  beginning  to 
express  their  surprise  over  this  exhibition  of  enter- 
prise, Oliver  Burgess  came  into  the  room,  and 
then  May  Brinton  hurried  in,  apologizing  for  her 
tardiness. 

"  I  always  try  to  be  on  time  the  first  morning, 
although  I  never  am,"  she  said.  "  After  that,  I 


176  THE  LODESTAR 

don't  care  —  I  usually  have  my  breakfast  in  my 
room ;  aunt  always  does." 

At  this  point  Eliot  Frame  swaggered  slowly  into 
the  room  and  sat  creakingly  down  beside  Pauline 
Rawlins.  Eliot  had  satisfactorily  proved  that  his 
intoxication,  on  the  night  of  his  call  upon  May, 
had  been  unexpectedly  sudden  and  wholly  acci- 
dental, and  in  his  renaissance  of  morality  he  was 
now  quite  restored  to  the  favor  of  the  liberal- 
minded  and  easy-going  Brintons.  He  included 
the  whole  table  in  one  comprehensive  salutation, 
and  then  his  eyes  rested  on  the  yellow-haired 
Princeton  man,  who  was  inverting  a  coffee  cup 
under  his  prominent  nose. 

"  Why,  Stuffy !  "  he  said  in  assumed  astonish- 
ment, "  you  here  ?  I  didn't  expect  they'd  get  you 
up  before  noon." 

"Oh,  I'm  a  regular  lark,"  replied  the  chunky 
Smith.  "The  early  bird  gets  the  worm,  you 
know." 

"  The  early  bird  in  this  case,  however,  isn't  so 
much  of  a  lark  as  a  jay,"  Burgess  put  in,  looking 
up  from  a  muffin. 

The  party  laughed  at  this  mild  sally,  and  Stuffy, 
having  no  skill  at  repartee,  wisely  remained  silent. 
The  elder  Miss  Rawlins  unexpectedly  interposed 
in  his  behalf. 


THE   LODESTAR  177 

"Really,  you're  doing  Mr.  Smith  an  injustice 
this  time,"  she  remarked  to  the  ex-inebriate.  "  He 
took  a  long  horseback  ride  before  breakfast  with 
Mr.  Brinton." 

"  Why,  papa  hasn't  been  on  a  horse  in  ten 
years,"  May  asserted  from  across  the  table. 

Miss  Rawlins  in  her  well-meant  endeavor  to 
champion  the  cause  of  justice  found  herself  in- 
stantly and  unexpectedly  put  on  the  defensive. 
She  was  quite  disconcerted  by  her  host's  next 
words. 

"You're  pretty  near  right,  May.  The  last  time 
I  rode  was  in  the  presidential  campaign  of  ninety- 
six;  they  made  me  an  aide  to  the  grand  marshal 
in  a  big  parade,  and  I  had  to  be  strapped  to  the 
saddle.  If  the  brute  had  fallen  down  on  that 
slippery  pavement  going  up  Broadway,  I'd  have 
broken  my  leg  sure;  I  haven't  been  on  a  horse 
since." 

"But  didn't  you  say  that  you  and  Mr.  Smith 
had  ridden  ten  miles  before  breakfast?"  Alice 
persisted. 

"  No,"  said  the  capitalist,  cheerfully ;  "  I  said 
you  wouldn't  believe  we'd  done  so,  but  I  seem  to 
have  been  mistaken  —  you  did  believe  it." 

The  fact  that  Mr.  Brinton  had  played  upon  her 
credulity  did  not  annoy  the  girl  as  much  as  the 


178  THE   LODESTAR 

fact  that  Smith  had  apparently  accepted  without 
protest  the  credit  for  something  he  had  not  done. 
She  made  no  reply  when  all  the  rest  of  the  table 
laughed;  and  the  innocent  Stuffy,  who  would 
likely  have  disclaimed  on  his  own  account  Mr. 
Brinton's  first  statement  had  he  not  been  inter- 
rupted by  the  entrance  of  Burgess  and  May,  ap- 
preciated that  he  had  fallen  still  lower  in  the 
measure  of  Miss  Rawlins's  favor.  His  large,  round, 
pale  blue  eyes  looked  almost  mutely  beseeching  as 
he  put  down  his  cup;  but  Alice,  who  was  a  little 
annoyed,  was  inflexibly  unforgiving. 

"Good  morning,  every  one,"  said  Charlotte 
Worthington,  as  she  briskly  swished  into  the 
room  and  seated  herself  next  Eliot  Frame. 

Charlotte  Worthington  was  a  somewhat  heavy 
young  lady,  who  attempted  to  be  agile  and 
sprightly  in  the  mistaken  hope  that  her  activity 
would  distract  attention  from  her  weight.  But 
her  clumsy  capers  excited  only  a  part  of  the 
comment  she  provoked  among  those  she  met, 
because  in  several  other  ways  she  was  a  fool. 
She  was  twenty-seven  or  eight,  but  she  affected 
to  be  seven  or  eight  years  younger.  This  called 
to  notice  the  fact  that  she  must  be  ashamed  of 
her  true  age,  and  it  was  consequently  estimated 
all  the  way  from  thirty  to  thirty-five.  Then  she 


THE   LODESTAR  179 

was  of  a  temperament  which  reached  longingly 
into  romance  but  reached  in  vain.  She  passion- 
ately desired  to  be  some  sort  of  heroine,  but  pass- 
ing heroes  would  have  none  of  her ;  they  usually 
took  especial  precautions  to  pass  at  a  safe  dis- 
tance. The  only  man  who  had  ever  asked  her 
to  marry  him  had  been  offensively  red-haired  and 
quite  insignificant ;  at  the  time,  she  had  been 
convinced  that  he  wished  to  marry  her  for  her 
money;  as  time  went  on,  although  firmly  retain- 
ing this  original  conviction,  she  began  to  regret 
that  she  had  not  accepted  him  and  let  him  earn 
what  he  desired.  Miss  Worthington  was  a  curi- 
ous girl  at  best,  and  her  presence  was  apt  to 
stir  up  a  very  gamut  of  feelings  in  the  people 
she  encountered.  She  met  derision,  sympathy, 
anger,  amusement,  pity,  contempt,  and  irritation. 
Yet  she  managed  to  be  asked  about  a  great  deal, 
and  she  almost  unexceptionally  accepted. 

This  completed  the  number  of  Mr.  Brinton's 
guests,  with  the  exception  of  Thatcher  Vanderveer, 
a  young  stockbroker,  who  was  on  an  enforced 
vacation,  having  been  scared  off  the  floor  of  the 
exchange  by  the  threat  of  nervous  prostration. 
Vanderveer  elected  to  protract  his  sleep  to  its 
natural  limit,  for  which  indulgence,  under  the 
circumstances,  no  one  blamed  him. 


180  THE   LODESTAR 

Mr.  Brinton  pushed  back  his  chair  from  the 
table  and  took  out  from  his  pocket  two  large 
cigars,  one  of  which  he  handed  to  Smith. 

"  Well,  what  are  you  all  going  to  do  this  morn- 
ing ?  "  he  said  briskly. 

There  was  no  reply ;  the  party  was  open  to  all 
reasonable  propositions. 

"  Is  there  a  lake  near  here  ? "  Charlotte  Worth- 
ington  inquired.  Her  longing  for  romantic  situa- 
tions would  have  been  gratified  in  a  measure 
could  she  have  inveigled  one  of  the  men  into  tak- 
ing her  out  in  a  skiff  and  spending  the  forenoon 
in  the  shade  of  an  overhanging  willow  while  she 
read  him  selections  from  Rossetti  and  Swinburne 
in  a  low,  languorous  voice.  Added  to  this,  there 
was  the  delightful  possibility  that  she  might  con- 
trive to  fall  overboard  and  be  borne  ashore  in  the 
strong  arms  of  some  gallant  rescuer.  This  some- 
what illogically  seemed  to  put  a  heavy  obligation 
upon  the  rescuer,  for  all  common  sense  inter- 
posed in  vain ;  although  Miss  Worthington  swam 
but  weakly,  she  would  have  been  quite  willing  to 
risk  such  a  performance. 

"There  isn't  any  lake,"  said  Mr.  Brinton, 
shortly,  and  a  calamity  was  averted  from  some 
unfortunate  swain  reluctant. 

"I'm  so  sorry,"  Charlotte  sighed. 


THE   LODESTAR  l8l 

"But,"  said  the  capitalist,  brightening,  "that 
reminds  me.  I'm  told  that  over  at  Perkins  Mills, 
a  town  near  here,  they're  going  to  drain  off  the 
mill-pond  this  morning.  Who'd  like  to  go  over 
and  see  the  fun  ? " 

"  What  is  the  fun  in  seeing  a  mill-pond  drained  ? 
It  sounds  stupid,"  said  Frame. 

"Are  there  any  festivities  incidental  to  the 
drainage  operations  proper  ? "  Burgess  inquired. 
"  Exercises  at  the  schoolhouse,  or  a  speech  by  the 
county  drainage  commissioner,  or  something  of 
that  sort  ?  It  doesn't  sound  very  thrilling  per  se." 

"It  isn't,"  the  host  admitted.  "But  the  inter- 
esting feature  is  this  :  it's  the  eels.  They  say 
there  are  simply  enormous  numbers  of  eels  in  that 
pond,"  he  stated  with  dramatic  emphasis,  "  and  I 
thought  it  might  be  amusing  to  see  them  all  wrig- 
gling around  in  the  mud  —  after  the  water  was 
drawn  off  —  and  men  with  big  boots  wading  in 
and  spearing  them." 

Miss  Worthington  simulated  a  shriek,  Alice 
Rawlins  stifled  a  shudder,  and  Eliot  Frame 
laughed.  The  pale  blue  eyes  of  Stuffy  Smith 
lit  up  a  little. 

"  I'd  like  to  go  first  rate,"  he  announced.  A 
brilliant  idea  occurred  to  him ;  he  would  expiate 
his  disfavor  in  the  eyes  of  Miss  Rawlins  by  invit- 


1 82  THE   LODESTAR 

ing  her  to  accompany  him.  "  Don't  you  want  to 
drive  over  with  me  and  see  the  sport  ? "  he  asked 
her  across  the  table. 

"  By  no  means,"  said  the  girl,  with  instant 
decision. 

The  unlucky  youth,  dimly  perceiving  that  his 
effort  had  resulted  only  in  a  further  recession  into 
the  slough  of  her  disapproval,  met  this  abrupt 
declination  with  tacit  resignation  sprung  of  a  total 
inability  to  reply.  He  felt  that  persuasion  would 
be  futile.  To  conceal  his  chagrin  and  confusion, 
he  blew  a  great  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke  straight 
up  into  the  air  and  sat  watching  it,  his  head 
thrown  back. 

"  Never  mind,  Stuffy,"  said  Mr.  Brinton,  consol- 
ingly. "  I'll  go  with  you  myself." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  chunky  young  man, 
with  real  gratitude,  which  Miss  Rawlins  attributed 
to  his  anxiety  to  witness  what  she  considered 
would  undoubtedly  be  a  most  revolting  spectacle. 

"What  do  you  say  to  doing  some  tennis  later 
on  ? "  Eliot  Frame  proposed  to  the  younger  Miss 
Rawlins.  "  Is  the  court  any  good  ? "  he  inquired 
of  the  commander. 

"It's  the  best  that  money  could  make,"  an- 
swered his  host,  with  a  trace  of  indignation.  "  I 
ordered  them  to  spare  no  expense." 


THE   LODESTAR  183 

"  They  probably  carried  out  your  orders  to  the 
letter,"  said  Burgess,  dryly. 

"  I  guess  it's  good  enough,  thqn,"  said  Frame, 
carelessly.  "  How  about  it,  Pauline  ? " 

The  girl,  who  was  fond  of  the  game  and  who 
played  strongly,  accepted  the  proposal  with 
pleasure. 

"  That  will  be  fine,"  she  said.  "  Who  will  play 
against  us  ?  Oliver,  won't  you  and  Alice  take  a 
challenge  ? " 

"  You  can't  have  him,"  May  Brinton  interposed. 
"  I  reserve  him  for  my  personal  use ;  he's  going  to 
take  me  to  call  on  a  friend  of  ours  —  a  girl  I  used 
to  go  to  school  with." 

"  Is  there  another  Allingwood  girl  here  ?  "  asked 
Charlotte  Worthington.  "  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"Oh,  she  didn't  enter  until  years  after — that 
is,  I  think  you  left  the  school  before  she  came," 
May  corrected  her  reply.  "  Her  name  is  Eleanor 
Hyde." 

"  Eleanor  Hyde  —  Eleanor  Hyde,"  said  Miss 
Worthington,  reflectively.  She  treated  Allingwood 
as  a  link  which  bound  her  to  girlhood ;  by  inter- 
esting herself  among  the  younger  graduates  of  the 
institution,  she  could  sometimes  effect  a  momen- 
tary recedence  into  their  social  generation.  "  I 
don't  know  her,  do  I  ? "  she  inquired. 


1 84  THE  LODESTAR 

"  No,"  said  May,  shortly. 

And  Burgess  was  glad  to  know  that  Miss 
Brinton  intended  to  hold  to  the  promise  she  had 
made  him. 

"  I  guess  we'll  have  to  wake  up  Vanderveer  to 
make  up  our  match,"  said  Frame  to  Pauline 
Rawlins. 

"  I  guess  we  will,"  his  partner  replied. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Brinton  had  conceived  a  plan. 
He  addressed  his  daughter  and  Burgess. 

"  Why  not  both  of  you  come  with  us  ? "  he  pro- 
posed. "  We  can  stop  and  pick  up  Miss  Hyde. 
The  touring-car  is  plenty  big  enough  for  five." 

His  daughter  looked  at  him  with  suspicion 
gnawing  through  to  the  surface. 

"  No,  papa,"  she  said  mildly  but  firmly.  "  You 
and  Stuffy  can  run  along  and  look  at  your  eels. 
Neither  Oliver  nor  I  care  to  see  a  lot  of  reptiles 
squirming  in  filth." 

The  commander  accepted  this  decision  re- 
signedly, and  the  unhappy  Smith,  his  round  eyes 
winking  behind  his  large  nose,  unconsciously 
compared  himself  to  one  of  the  uncomfortable, 
stranded  denizens  of  the  emptied  pond. 

Accordingly,  shortly  after  breakfast  the  Raw- 
lins sisters  went  to  dress  for  tennis,  Frame  went 
to  arouse  the  needed  stockbroker,  Mr.  Brinton 


THE   LODESTAR  185 

and  the  yellow-haired  Princetonian  started  for  the 
garage  where  the  flying  squadron  of  motor  cars 
which  the  capitalist  maintained  was  anchored,  and 
Miss  Worthington  was  left  to  the  matronly  care 
of  the  colorless  aunt,  who  presently  descended  the 
stairs.  This  programme  was  highly  distasteful  to 
Charlotte,  but  no  one  particularly  cared  what  end 
her  desires  for  entertainment  met,  and  she  was 
calmly  disregarded  in  the  calculations. 

Burgess  and  May  took  a  horse  and  runabout, 
and  at  half-past  ten  they  set  out  for  the  Hyde 
farm. 

Although  Miss  Brinton  was  quick  to  antagonize 
any  girl  upon  whom  she  had  reason  to  believe  her 
father  looked  with  especial  favor,  she  had  really 
anticipated  with  some  little  pleasure  the  thought 
of  again  meeting  Eleanor  Hyde.  Her  slight  recol- 
lection of  Eleanor  was  on  the  whole  quite  favor- 
able ;  she  remembered  her  as  a  slim,  quiet  girl 
with  pretty  eyes  and  gentle  manners.  It  seemed 
very  improbable  that  such  a  girl  should  have 
within  a  short  year  or  two  developed  the  char- 
acteristics of  a  calculating  adventuress  and  in 
that  role  deliberately  attempted  the  capture  of  an 
enormously  opulent  widower.  But  May  guarded 
her  father's  single  state  with  infinite  caution ;  she 
saw  a  sinister  purpose  in  every  casual  smile  an 


1 86  THE   LODESTAR 

eligible  lady  bestowed  upon  Mr.  Brinton ;  she  read 
from  each  innocent  pressure  of  a  feminine  hand 
in  his  a  direct  invitation  to  the  altar ;  she  was  in- 
cessantly and  almost  insanely  alert  to  ward  off 
every  slightest  danger  of  this  nature  before  it 
came  to  take  threatening  dimensions  from  its 
proximity  or  undisturbed  continuance.  She  would 
have  been  honestly  glad  to  disassociate  this  fear 
from  the  renewal  of  her  acquaintance  with  Eleanor 
Hyde,  but  frankly  she  did  not  dare.  Yet  she  was 
good-natured  and  generous,  and  she  was  perfectly 
ready  to  take  her  sometime  schoolmate  into  her 
own  set,  but  she  candidly  apprehended  the  effect 
upon  the  enthusiastic  plutocrat  of  the  beauty  and 
grace  and  charm  into  which  the  girl  had  bid  fair 
to  bloom.  In  short,  her  inclinations  lay  toward 
carrying  out  the  promise  she  had  made  Burgess; 
against  this  she  retained  her  old  doubts,  but  she 
conceded  to  Eleanor  the  benefit  of  them. 

"  You  say  she's  grown  pretty  ?  I  should  scarcely 
know  her,"  Miss  Brinton  interrogated  of  Burgess 
as  they  drove  along. 

"  I  thought  so.  And  I  believe  I'm  a  very  fair 
judge,"  her  escort  replied  with  a  smile. 

The  verdict  of  this  acknowledged  expert  did  not 
wholly  satisfy  the  young  lady.  She  was  less  in- 
terested in  the  question  of  Miss  Hyde's  compara- 


THE   LODESTAR  187 

tive  comeliness  than  in  the  matter  of  those  who 
conceded  or  questioned  it.  Whether  Eleanor  was 
really  beautiful  was  of  less  moment  to  Miss  Brin- 
ton  than  whether  certain  persons  believed  her  to 
be,  and  the  depth  of  their  various  conclusions. 

"  What  did  papa  think  of  her  ? "  May  pointedly 
inquired,  looking  straight  ahead  over  the  ears  of 
the  trotting  cob. 

Burgess  knew  the  wily  capitalist  well  enough 
to  appreciate  the  justification  for  her  questioning 
him,  but  he  was  careful  not  to  prejudice  the  in- 
terests of  Eleanor  by  telling  the  direct  truth,  so 
far  as  his  opinion  weighed.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
he  had  thought  Mr.  Brinton  to  have  been  greatly 
taken  with  the  country  girl ;  but  of  course  it 
would  have  been  highly  tactless  to  advance  this 
conviction  into  the  ears  of  the  naturally  suspicious 
daughter. 

"  Oh,  your  father  seemed  to  like  her  well 
enough,"  he  replied  carelessly.  He  put  forth 
a  statement  to  divert  her  suspicions.  "  Her  great 
hit  was  made,  not  with  your  father  or  me,  but 
with  Hamilton  King." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  May  responded.  She  was  in  a 
measure  relieved.  The  disposition  of  the  novel- 
ist's affections  was  of  no  moment  to  her.  And 
she  was  glad,  moreover,  to  know  that  the  girl  was 


1 88  THE   LODESTAR 

not  suitorless.  A  popular  young  novelist  ought 
to  be  a  sufficient  capture  for  any  country  maiden  ; 
certainly  Eleanor  was  less  apt  to  be  discontented 
and  consequently  dangerous  if  an  adequate  knight 
was  already  filling  the  field  out  of  which  she  de- 
sired to  keep  the  opulent  widower. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Burgess  went  on  with  assurance.  "  I 
was  really  surprised  at  Hamilton ;  I  never  saw 
him  quite  that  way  before.  He  seemed  to  think 
that  Miss  Hyde's  eyes  were  several  different  and 
distinct  shades  in  various  lights  and  emotions. 
That's  a  bad  sign." 

"  It  would  seem  so,  wouldn't  it  ?  "  said  the  girl, 
with  a  light  laugh.  Evidently  King  would  suffice 
as  a  stalwart  defence  if  a  defence  was  to  be 
needed. 

"  And  King  came  back  here  all  alone ;  he  was 
here  that  evening  I  asked  you  to  take  up  Miss 
Hyde  and  help  her  out  of  the  awkward  position 
your  father  had  put  her  into  with  the  town  people. 
King  said  that  he  had  gone  back  to  get  material 
for  a  story." 

"Perhaps  it  will  be  an  autobiographical  ro- 
mance," said  the  girl,  hopefully,  and  Burgess 
laughed  at  her  use  of  the  seven-syllabled  word 
and  the  capping  expression. 

"  I  think  she  rather  fancied  King,  too.     He  can 


THE   LODESTAR  189 

be  very  decent  when  he  tries  —  and  he  tried,"  the 
young  man  asserted. 

His  companion  was  sincerely  delighted  over 
the  mutuality  of  attraction.  Her  good  humor  in- 
creased as  she  neared  the  end  of  their  journey. 
She  was  charmed  with  the  wall  and  the  little  brook 
and  the  narrow  lane  between  the  gnarled  apple 
trees,  and  with  the  old  white  house  set  against  the 
shoulder  of  the  hill.  When  the  runabout  drew  up 
at  the  doorstep,  she  sprang  out  and  ran  up  the 
steps  with  an  eagerness  which  was  not  in  the  least 
simulated.  Burgess  sat  holding  the  cob  as  she 
followed  the  hired  girl  and  disappeared  into  the 
shadowy  hallway.  He  took  out  his  cigarette  case, 
smiling  a  little. 


IX 


SOME  one  once  said  that  Charlotte  Worthington's 
gradual  withdrawal  from  the  lists  of  romantic  pos- 
sibilities reminded  him  of  the  slow,  helpless  agony 
of  an  expiring  ox.  Charlotte  had  been  pushed 
down  the  primrose  path,  facing  backward  and 
bitterly  contesting  every  step  that  marked  the 
passage  of  another  day.  Still  she  kept  hoping 
against  hope  and  reluctantly  regarded  a  future 
which  constantly  drew  nearer  inevitable  singu- 
larity. The  only  man  who  had  combined  the 
notable  courage  and  uncommon  taste  to  ask  her 
hand  she  had  rejected  through  the  urgent  appre- 
hension that  he  was  desirous  merely  of  her  prop- 
erty. She  was  now  nearing  the  point  where  she 
heartily  congratulated  herself  on  the  possession 
of  her  fortune  and  secretly  wondered  whether 
some  more  or  less  eligible  young  man  was  not 
sufficiently  mercenary  to  accept  it  and  her  to- 
gether. Just  at  present  no  candidate  seemed  for- 
ward within  reach,  but  the  captivating  Charlotte 
was  ever  alert.  She  lived  on  lean  meat  and  hot 

190 


THE   LODESTAR  191 

water,  when  at  home,  in  the  hope  of  reducing  her 
awkward  total  of  pounds  avoirdupois ;  she  went 
about  with  as  many  of  the  younger  girls  as  would 
tolerate  her,  with  a  view  to  concealing  her  embar- 
rassing total  of  years ;  and  she  kept  in  touch  with 
certain  phases  of  romance  by  studiously  perusing 
somewhat  scurrilous  French  novels  and  endeavor- 
ing to  throw  herself  into  the  mental  attitudes  of 
their  heroines. 

When  Mr.  Brinton  and  Stuffy  Smith  had  gone 
dashing  out  the  driveway  in  an  automobile,  she 
had  somewhat  peevishly  declined  an  invitation  to 
referee  the  tennis  match,  and  curtly  refused  to 
accompany  Miss  Wylie  into  the  village.  Miss 
Wylie  was  the  maiden  aunt  who  attempted  in  her 
colorless  way  to  chaperon  May  Brinton  and  such 
of  her  guests  as  came  under  her  direction ;  and 
Charlotte  Worthington  noted  with  spleen  and  alarm 
that  the  old  maid  was  beginning  to  look  upon  her 
as  a  congenial  fellow;  wherefore  Charlotte  was 
consciously  unhappy,  when  they  were  together, 
lest  others,  too,  might  come  to  associate  their  ages 
and  their  stations.  And,  moreover,  as  she  had  for 
some  days  been  feeling  ill,  she  sought  out  a  com- 
fortable corner  of  the  big  hall  and  sat  down  alone 
with  a  book. 

In  the  village  of   Burnham  the  arrival  of  Mr. 


IQ2  THE   LODESTAR 

Brinton  had  caused  a  great  stir.  As  the  new 
tenant  of  the  biggest  local  estate  he  stalked  into 
the  distinction  of  being  the  most  notable  summer 
resident ;  and  those  who  had  not  seen  him  desired 
to,  and  those  who  had  felt  the  lucrative  caress  of 
his  immediate  presence  during  his  brief  former 
sojourn  hoped  magnificently  from  his  stay  of 
longer  duration.  The  Methodist  minister,  opti- 
mistic Mr.  Purvis,  dreamed  vague  white  dreams 
of  a  new  church,  a  neat  stone  structure  with  a 
remarkably  fine  window  commemorating  the  gen- 
erosity of  the  wealthy  New  Yorker  who  had  made 
the  building  possible ;  Riggs,  the  veterinary,  fore- 
saw that  his  professional  services  would  be  in 
great  demand  in  Mr.  Brinton's  stable;  the  local 
butcher  and  baker  and  candlestick  maker  all  of 
them  anticipated  incomes  greatly  augmented  by 
the  liberal  patronage  of  a  man  who  had  the  repu- 
tation of  ordering  in  wholesale  quantities  and  pay- 
ing without  protest;  the  social  elements  hoped 
from  his  display  of  democracy  that  they  would 
receive  an  opportunity  of  tasting  his  hospitality ; 
every  one  in  Burnham  had  some  motive  in  wel- 
coming Mr.  Brinton. 

As  Charlotte  Worthington  sat  in  the  depths  of 
a  cushioned  wicker  chair  reading  Tom  Beauling, 
she  was  aroused  by  the  sound  of  steps  softly  pad- 


THE   LODESTAR  193 

ding  through  the  hall;  a  shadow  fell  across  the 
page,  and  she  raised  her  eyes  to  perceive  an  enor- 
mous lady  in  a  faded  purple  dress  looking  curi- 
ously down  at  her.  The  enormous  lady  smiled  in 
a  friendly  manner,  and  drew  nearer,  wiping  the 
beads  of  perspiration  from  her  fat  face  with  a 
ridiculously  diminutive  lace  handkerchief. 

"  I  couldn't  seem  to  find  the  door-bell,"  said 
Mrs.  Al  Squires,  with  a  painful  disregard  of  ve- 
racity, "so  I  jest  come  right  in  'nd  reckoned  I'd 
find  some  one  before  I  went  far.  Are  you  Miss 
Brinton  ?  " 

Miss  Worthington  surveyed  her  colossal  visitor, 
and  her  apprehension  melted  into  covert  amuse- 
ment. She  laid  down  her  book,  and  rose. 

"  Miss  Brinton  is  out,"  she  said.  "  Is  there  any- 
thing I  can  do  for  you  ? " 

Mrs.  Squires  gauged  the  stability  of  the  settee 
beside  her  with  one  rapid  glance.  Then  she  sat 
deliberately  down  upon  it.  Her  judgment  was  cor- 
rect —  it  trembled  but  held  firm. 

"Oh,  no  —  nothin'  at  all,"  she  replied  easily. 
"  I  s'pose  I'd  better  tell  you  who  I  am,  or  you'll 
begin  to  think  I'm  tryin'  to  sell  you  somethin'. 
I'm  Mrs.  Al  Squires,  'n'  I  jest  dropped  in  to  wel- 
come you,  thinkin'  it  only  neighborly." 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you,"  said  her  hostess-by-proxy. 


194  THE   LODESTAR 

"My  name  is  Worthington  —  I'm  stopping  with 
the  Brintons." 

"  I  guess  I'm  about  the  first  one  to  call,"  an- 
nounced the  visitor  with  a  show  of  pride.  She 
looked  about  as  if  she  feared  lest  some  rival  for 
this  distinction  would  start  up  out  of  the  shadows 
from  behind  the  curtains,  and  upset  her  claim  to 
the  distinction.  "  Never  put  off  till  afternoon 
what  you  c'n  do  'n  the  mornin'  —  that's  my 
motto,"  she  asserted. 

"  It's  a  very  good  motto,"  Miss  Worthington 
politely  agreed.  "  Miss  Brinton  will  be  sorry  to 
have  missed  seeing  you,"  she  added.  "And  her 
father,  too,"  she  put  in  as  an  afterthought  Truly 
Mrs.  Squires  was  a  sight  that  no  person  with  the 
least  sense  of  humor  would  be  willing  to  forego. 

The  visitor  puckered  her  fleshy  lips  in  dis- 
appointment. 

"  Ain't  Mr.  Brinton  home  ?  "  she  said.  "  Say, 
I'm  reel  sorry  not  to  see  him  again." 

"  Are  you  acquainted  with  Mr.  Brinton  ?  "  her 
hostess  inquired. 

"Oh,  mercy,  yes!"  replied  the  huge  lady  in 
faded  purple,  with  easy  confidence,  rocking  gently 
to  and  fro.  "When  he  was  here  before,  I  was 
down  'n'  ate  dinner  on  his  private  car." 

"  Really  ? "  said  Miss  Worthington. 


THE   LODESTAR  195 

"  Oh,  we  had  a  gay  time ! "  continued  Mrs. 
Squires.  "  There  was  Mr.  Brinton  'n'  Mr.  Bur- 
gess 'n'  Mr.  King  'n'  Eleanor  Hyde  'n'  me.  I 
'most  got  stuck  in  the  door  gettin'  in.  Yes,  we 
had  a  fine  time." 

Miss  Worthington  reflected  that  her  guest's 
physique  must  afford  her  liberal  opportunities  for 
this  rather  odd  form  of  enjoyment.  But  she  had 
heard  familiar  names. 

"  Eleanor  Hyde  ?  Is  that  the  girl  who  used  to 
go  to  school  at  Allingwood  ?  Why,  Miss  Brinton 
and  Mr.  Burgess  have  gone  out  to  call  on  her." 

"  Mr.  Burgess  ?  Is  he  here  again  ?  You  don't 
say !  "  responded  the  stout  lady,  significantly. 

The  eager  Charlotte  was  now  on  her  favorite 
scent.  It  struck  her  that  perhaps  May  was  kindly 
advancing  a  love  affair  of  Oliver's.  She  was 
immediately  consumed  with  curiosity,  and  Mrs. 
Squires  came  temporarily  into  the  direct  line  of 
a  very  rapid  fire. 

"  Did  Mr.  Burgess  seem  to  like  Miss  Hyde  ? " 
she  asked,  earnestly  regarding  the  caller. 

"  Like  her  ?  Oh,  I  see  what  you're  drivin'  at 
I  guess  they  all  liked  her  well  enough,  but  Mr. 
Burgess  warn't  so  bad  's  the  other  two,"  replied  her 
voluble  visitor,  little  loath  to  this  species  of  gossip. 

"  Wasn't  he  ?  "  Miss  Worthington  poised. 


196  THE   LODESTAR 

"  No.  It  seemed  to  me  that  Mr.  King  was 
pretty  anxious  to  get  on  th'  right  side  in  a  sort  o' 
quiet  way,  but  Mr.  Brinton  was  reel  funny ;  I  had 
to  laugh,  thinkin'  about  it  afterward." 

Miss  Worthington  sank  back  in  her  chair  in 
a  silent  ecstasy.  This  was  better  than  she  had 
hoped ;  instead  of  one  man  there  were  three  who 
fell  under  her  rapt  gaze.  Surely  here  was  a  ro- 
mance come  straight  to  her  hand  —  three  men  of 
her  acquaintance,  all  of  them  (so  she  assumed)  in 
love  with  one  lovely  farm  girl.  The  web  of  her 
imagination  threw  off  in  the  choice  of  three  sepa- 
rate happy  endings  to  this  local  Maud  Muller. 
In  her  mind  the  opulent  widower  became  a  sort 
of  King  Cophetua ;  she  saw  the  tenor  of  King's 
work  changed,  and  the  thread  of  the  dilettante  ex- 
istence of  Burgess  entirely  broken  by  the  chance 
encounter  with  the  captivating  country  maid.  She 
was  satisfied. 

The  party  collected  about  noon.  Miss  Wylie 
returned  from  her  inspection  of  the  town;  the 
tennis-players,  who  had  finished  the  match,  were 
sitting  on  the  piazza;  Burgess  and  May  Brinton 
had  come  back  from  their  call  on  Eleanor  Hyde ; 
and  finally  Mr.  Brinton  and  Stuffy  Smith  had 
darted  into  the  grounds  and  up  to  the  porte- 
cochere —  in  this  case  the  porte-chauffeure. 


THE   LODESTAR  197 

"  Did  you  see  your  eels  ?  How  were  they  ? " 
Eliot  Frame  called  out. 

"  Great ! "  said  the  chunky  youth,  with  laconic 
enthusiasm,  as  he  climbed  down  from  the  tonneau. 

"They  covered  the  whole  lower  end  of  the 
pond.  You  wouldn't  have  believed  your  eyes," 
said  the  capitalist,  as  he  came  up  the  steps. 

"  I  know  that  /  wouldn't,"  said  Alice  Rawlins, 
remembering  sharply  the  discomfiture  to  which 
she  had  been  brought  by  her  former  credulity,  and 
Mr.  Brinton  laughed  appreciatively. 

"  Did  you  find  your  friend  at  home  ? "  the  yel- 
low-haired young  man  politely  asked  of  his  young 
hostess. 

"Oh,  yes,"  May  answered.  "And  I  tried  very 
hard  to  get  her  to  come  back  with  me,  but  she 
couldn't  come.  Where's  Charlotte  ?  " 

"  She  didn't  feel  well ;  she's  up  in  her  room, 
lying  down.  I  telephoned  for  the  doctor,  and  he's 
coming  before  luncheon,"  Miss  Wylie  stated. 

The  party  mumbled  appropriate  condolences, 
although  no  one  particularly  cared. 

"  By  the  way,"  Miss  Wylie  went  on,  "  we  had  a 
call  from  one  of  the  Burnham  ladies,  a  friend  of 
yours,  John;  a  Mrs.  Squires  —  Mrs.  Al  Squires,  I 
think  she  said." 

"Woman   built    something    like    a    canal-boat 


198  THE   LODESTAR 

standing  on  end  —  about  the  same  size  ? "  in- 
quired the  capitalist. 

"  Yes,"  responded  his  relative. 

"  Remarkable  woman,"  said  Mr.  Brinton. 
"Weight  simply  enormous,  and  conversational 
output  in  direct  ratio.  I  trust  you  all  met  her 
—  I  hope  not  a  single  one  of  you  missed  her. 
She's  a  character." 

"They  didn't  meet  her,"  said  Miss  Wylie;  "no 
one  was  here  except  Charlotte  Worthington  and  I. 
Charlotte  seemed  greatly  interested  in  her ;  they 
were  getting  along  splendidly  when  I  arrived." 

"Charlotte's  probably  going  in  for  the  village 
gossip,"  said  Burgess,  with  a  laugh.  "  A  natural 
curiosity  and  a  voluble  manner  of  touching  up  a 
story  that  her  neighbor  has  retailed  to  her,  and 
that's  our  colossal  friend.  She's  a  perfect  sprin- 
kling cart  of  mild  local  scandal." 

Stuffy  Smith  managed  to  draw  Alice  Rawlins 
aside  and  attempted  to  engage  her  in  conversation. 
Stuffy  uneasily  felt  that  the  Brinton  house  party 
had  begun  inauspiciously  for  him.  Before  he 
started,  the  indefinite  desire  to  further  himself  in 
the  favor  of  Miss  Rawlins  had  swum  hazily  but 
largely  on  the  surface  of  his  rather  shallow  mind  ; 
but  he  seemed  to  have  retrogressed  rather  than 
advanced  since  the  departure  from  New  York. 


THE   LODESTAR  199 

In  his  efforts  to  be  a  true  cavalier  he  had  achieved 
nothing  but  failure.  While  ascending  the  steps 
to  the  car  he  had  stepped  on  the  girl's  skirt  and 
torn  it ;  in  procuring  for  her  a  selection  of  read- 
ing matter,  he  had  led  the  way  with  a  novel  over 
which  the  critics  had  wavered  between  condemning 
as  inartistically  suggestive  or  praising  as  coura- 
geously indecent.  The  chunky  youth  had  known 
nothing  of  the  book's  reputation,  and  had  been 
painfully  surprised  when  Miss  Rawlins  rejected 
his  gift  with  some  indignation.  Then  he  had 
fetched  her  a  glass  of  water,  and  just  as  he  was 
handing  it  to  her,  the  train  had  lurched  and  he 
had  spilled  part  of  it  over  her  frock  and  knocked 
her  hat  askew.  He  had  subsequently  bored  her 
for  a  long  half  hour  with  a  dissertation  on  the 
breeding  of  bull-dogs,  a  subject  upon  which  he 
was  really  erudite  but  which  possessed  not  an  iota 
of  interest  to  his  auditor.  To  end  this  chain  of 
infelicities  he  had  alluded  to  a  girl  who  was  very 
quiet  and  unassuming,  but  of  whom  Miss  Rawlins 
happened  to  be  quite  fond,  as  a  potted  palm. 
"  Marion  Ingalls  —  she's  a  potted  palm."  This 
was  an  expression  of  which  Alice  could  not  extract 
the  complete  significance,  Smith  smilingly  declin- 
ing to  divulge  its  entire  analyzed  force,  but  she 
set  it  down  as  sneeringly  deprecatory,  and  was 


200  THE   LODESTAR 

consequently  offended.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
journey  he  had  closed  at  the  bottom  of  favor,  and 
his  well-intended  invitation  to  Mr.  Brinton's  eel- 
exterminating  carnival  had  begun  the  morning  on 
the  same  low  level.  The  pathos  of  his  position 
lay  in  the  fact  that  he  deeply  admired  Miss 
Rawlins,  and  would  have  gone  to  almost  any  end 
to  gain  her  approval.  He  seated  himself  at  her 
feet  near  the  end  of  the  piazza,  and  his  large, 
round,  pale  blue  eyes  regarded  her  with  unexpired 
hope. 

"  Say,  why  are  you  angry  at  me  ? "  he  said  in 
low,  confidential  tones,  as  though  he  were  totally 
ignorant  of  a  single  item  which  might  have  carried 
on  the  account  of  his  disfavor.  "  Honestly,  I 
didn't  know  anything  about  that  book;  I  never 
read  these  current  novels,"  he  added  somewhat 
superfluously,  since  no  one  for  an  instant  suspected 
him  of  reading  anything  at  all. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right;  I'm  sure  you  didn't  know 
about  it,"  said  the  girl,  a  little  more  graciously, 
this  concession  arising  from  a  sincere  belief  in  his 
truthfulness.  Not  wholly  blind  to  his  intellectual 
deficiencies,  the  yellow-haired  youth  grasped  this 
fact. 

"You  mean  I'm  not  a  reading  man,"  he  said. 
"Well,  maybe  I'm  not,"  he  confessed  a  little 


THE    LODESTAR  201 

morosely.  The  point  did  not  seem  to  contain 
the  elements  for  argument.  "  I  admit  I've  got 
no  taste  that  way  —  I  read  a  fearful  lot  of  stuff 
in  college,  but  most  of  it  bored  me  stiff.  I  thought 
Pius  ./Eneas  was  a  whimpering  prig,  and  Odysseus 
was  just  a  crazy  hobo,  and  I  don't  see  how  they 
came  to  make  a  hobo  the  hero  of  a  fairy  story, 
anyway." 

"  I  never  thought  of  it  exactly  that  way,"  said 
Miss  Rawlins,  with  some  interest. 

"  I  took  a  course  in  Tennyson  and  Browning, 
too,"  the  young  man  went  on.  "  I  didn't  pretend 
to  care  anything  about  poetry,  but  I  knew  that  the 
feller  who  gave  the  lectures  had  neuralgic  head- 
aches and  used  to  cut  recitations  about  half  the 
time,  and  while  I  was  there  all  the  stuff  went  filter- 
ing through  my  head  and  some  of  it  had  to  stick." 

"  Really?  "  said  the  girl,  with  amusement. 

"And  I  went  to  three  or  four  kinds  of  history. 
When  I  graduated  I  knew  quite  a  lot  about  Cleo- 
patra and  Charlemagne  and  Aaron  Burr  and  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  and  Boadicea  and  all  that 
crowd.  But  you  don't  hear  any  one  around  town 
talking  up  any  of  'em,  so  I  gradually  forgot  what 
they  all  did." 

"  How  unfortunate  !  "  was  Miss  Rawlins's  com- 
ment. 


202  THE   LODESTAR 

"  Yes.  After  I  got  out  of  college,  I  intended 
to  keep  up  my  reading  —  I  give  you  my  word 
I  did,"  said  the  young  man,  mournfully;  "but  I 
couldn't  seem  to  get  interested  in  anything.  I 
tried  to  read  a  book  called  The  History  of  the 
Warfare  of  Science  with  Theology,  and  the  first 
volume  almost  killed  me." 

"It  doesn't  sound  quite  your  style,"  said  the 
girl,  kindly. 

The  chunky  youth  was  much  encouraged  by  the 
apparent  melting  of  the  ice  in  her  manner  toward 
him. 

"Say,"  he  proposed  earnestly,  "you've  read  a 
lot  of  things,  and  you  know  all  the  books  a  feller 
like  me  ought  to  read.  Now,  if  you'll  make  out 
a  list,  I'll  promise  you  to  get  'em  and  read  'em. 
Only  please  leave  out  The  History  of  the  War- 
fare of  Science  with  Theology.  Yes,  I'll  promise 
you  to  get  'em  and  read  'em."  He  looked  at  the 
girl  with  uneasy  anxiety. 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  think  of  assuming  such  a  re- 
sponsibility," said  Miss  Rawlins,  hastily.  She 
fancied  Stuffy  struggling  desperately  through 
Boswell's  Life  or  painfully  perusing  Walter  Pater. 
Yet  surely  it  was  a  brave  offer  he  was  making. 
"But  I  congratulate  you  on  your  ambition,"  she 
added  with  a  smile. 


THE   LODESTAR  203 

A  shadow  came  over  the  blond  features  of  her 
stocky  companion. 

"  Oh,  I  haven't  any  ambition  in  that  way,"  he 
protested.  "  Not  a  bit.  But  I'd  just  do  it,  though, 
if  you'd  like  me  to,"  he  announced  meaningly. 

"  Don't  be  foolish,"  Alice  replied  with  decision. 

At  the  other  end  of  the  piazza.  Eliot  Frame  had 
succeeded  in  getting  Pauline  Rawlins  apart  in  a 
shady  corner.  For  some  months  past  Eliot  had 
been  noticeably  attentive  to  the  girl,  who,  while 
she  never  welcomed  his  presence,  did  not  rebuff 
him  with  the  vigor  which  her  elder  sister  displayed 
in  her  treatment  of  the  hapless  Stuffy.  For  the 
question  of  Frame's  availability  was  a  more  open 
one.  Although  he  led  a  life  more  marked  by  its 
velocity  than  by  an  adherence 'to  any  narrowly 
conceived  road  of  righteousness,  he  had  his  better 
side.  He  was  a  big,  handsome  young  fellow  of  a 
recognized  courage  which  his  ability  at  polo  gave 
him  an  opportunity  to  display ;  he  had  a  dashing 
way  of  executing  his  desires,  which  was  by  no 
means  unattractive  to  women ;  he  was  good- 
humored  and  obliging  ;  and  he  possessed  excellent 
prospects  of  some  day  inheriting  a  fortune  suffi- 
ciently ample  to  gratify  the  most  ardent  spender. 
In  fact  he  was  typically  one  of  the  men  upon 
whom  Mrs.  Rawlins  had  launched  her  daugh- 


204  THE   LODESTAR 

ters.  And  yet  against  these  there  were  decided 
drawbacks  to  Eliot  He  was  somewhat  arrogant 
and  flamboyant  and  apparently  quite  useless,  and 
he  imbibed  excessive  quantities  of  strong  drink 
at  unhappily  frequent  intervals.  If  he  married,  he 
might  be  tractable  and  subject  to  reformation,  or 
again,  he  might  develop  into  a  brutal  inebriate 
with  whom  it  would  be  impossible  to  live.  It  was 
a  risk  which  Pauline  had  under  careful  considera- 
tion. One  of  Frame's  good  qualities  was  a  frank- 
ness of  contempt,  which  was  evidenced  in  what  he 
was  saying. 

"  Charlotte  Worthington  sick  ? "  he  commented 
incredulously.  "  Don't  you  believe  it  for  a  min- 
ute !  Don't  squander  a  single  sympathetic  sob  over 
Charlotte  —  she  probably  just  wants  to  see  whether 
the  country  doctor  here  can  be  fascinated." 

"  Oh,  Eliot,  what  a  horrid  thing  to  say !  She 
may  be  really  ill,"  the  girl  replied,  laughing  a 
little. 

"Well,  I'm  not  going  to  waste  any  crocodile 
tears  over  her,"  Frame  retorted.  "  You  see, 
Pauline,  this  house  party  has  paired  off  naturally, 
as  all  properly  arranged  house  parties  should. 
Ollie  Burgess  is  taking  care  of  May,  and  Stuffy 
Smith  is  supposed  to  be  looking  out  for  your 
sister,  and  there  are  you  and  I.  Now  Thatcher 


THE   LODESTAR  2O5 

Vanderveer  was  evidently  asked  up  to  trot  around 
with  Charlotte, — the  Brintons  must  have  something 
fearful  against  him,  —  and  he  didn't  find  it  out  until 
he  started  and  couldn't  back  out.  This  morning, 
rather  than  get  under  the  Juggernaut,  he  lies  in 
bed  and  claims  he's  threatened  with  nervous  prostra- 
tion. Perhaps  he  really  is ;  to  come  up  here  think- 
ing he  was  on  a  pleasure  trip  and  then  suddenly 
discover  what  he  was  up  against  must  have  jarred 
his  nerves  considerably  —  it  would  [have  jarred 
mine,  I  know.  Then  Charlotte  finds  herself  side- 
tracked, and  starts  on  a  still  hunt  for  local  talent, 
commencing  with  the  doctor." 

"  Eliot,  I  think  it's  simply  scandalous  in  you  to 
talk  this  way,"  said  Miss  Rawlins,  with  dutiful  re- 
proachfulness.  "  I  saw  the  doctor  when  he 
arrived,  and  he's  an  old  man  with  gray  whiskers." 

"Then  Charlotte  will  recover,"  responded  her 
companion,  promptly.  "  I'll  bet  three  to  one  that 
those  gray  whiskers  make  a  quick  cure  and  she's 
down  to  lunch.  What  do  you  say  ? " 

Pauline  only  laughed. 

"  I'm  sorry  the  doctor  can't  qualify,"  said  Frame, 
reflectively ;  "  but  if  he's  the  man  you  saw,  I 
guess  those  whiskers  will  put  him  out  of  the 
eligible  list ;  he  probably  has  a  wife  and  an  allo- 
pathic family,  anyway,  but  I'm  sorry  he  couldn't 


206  THE   LODESTAR 

have  been  a  little  more  presentable.  You  see,  that 
Worthington  woman's  a  regular  devil,  Pauline,  and 
if  she  has  nothing  to  do,  she  mixes  in  every  one 
else's  business,  and  I'm  afraid  of  her." 

While  Miss  Wylie  had  accompanied  the  physician 
to  the  room  of  the  patient  over  whose  illness  Eliot 
Frame  had  been  so  sceptical,  Mr.  Brinton  had 
remained  with  his  daughter  and  Burgess. 

"  By  the  way,  May,"  exclaimed  the  capitalist, 
"  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  we're  to  have  another 
guest." 

"  Who  ?  "  inquired  the  girl. 

"  Well,  we  stopped  at  the  Inn  on  our  way  home 
—  Stuffy  and  I,  —  and  who  do  you  suppose  had 
just  arrived  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  his  daughter. 

"  Hamilton  King  ? "  Burgess  hazarded. 

Mr.  Brinton  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  Did  you  know  he  was  coming  ? "  he  asked 
suspiciously. 

"  No,"  his  guest  answered.  He  glanced  at  the 
girl,  and  as  their  eyes  met  they  both  laughed. 

"What's  the  joke  ?  "  inquired  the  magnate. 

"  Well,  perhaps  the  young  lady  we've  just  seen 
had  something  to  do  with  his  return,"  May  said. 
"  But  she  didn't  mention  that  she  expected  him, 
did  she  ? "  she  asked  her  companion  of  the  call. 


THE   LODESTAR  2O/ 

Perhaps  her  school  friend  had  affected  an  ingenu- 
ousness which  had  convinced  without  question,  but 
which  circumstantial  facts  would  later  undermine. 

"  I  didn't  hear  her  mention  it,"  Burgess  conceded. 
He  himself  began  to  evince  dim  suspicions. 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  was  Mr.  Brinton's  comment.  He 
fell  suddenly  and  remarkably  silent.  He  was  not 
at  all  certain  that  he  approved  of  this  affair  between 
King  and  Eleanor  Hyde  going  forward.  But  he 
took  a  fresh  satisfaction  in  the  innocent  insistence 
with  which  he  had  dragged  King  away  from  the 
Inn.  King  had  protested  strongly  against  leaving 
his  rented  quarters,  but  the  good-natured  capitalist 
had  simply  declined  to  hear  of  his  remaining  at  a 
hotel  while  in  Burnham,  and  against  the  novelist's 
polite  and  probably  sincere  remonstrances  he  had 
made  all  arrangements  for  the  transshipment  of 
his  belongings.  He  now  reflected  that  this  was 
quite  as  well ;  he  would  have  the  young  man  under 
his  watchful  and  not  always  encouraging  eye. 
Certainly  King  had  lost  a  measure  of  independence 
on  his  quest. 

"  Well,  how  did  you  like  Miss  Hyde  ?  "  he  asked 
carelessly  of  his  daughter,  for  the  moment  forget- 
ting that  he  had  depicted  the  country  girl  as  an 
intimate  whom  May  could  scarcely  be  expected 
now  coolly  to  analyze. 


208  THE   LODESTAR 

May  looked  at  the  situation  from  another  satis- 
factory viewpoint ;  in  the  arrival  of  King  she  saw 
the  last  element  of  threatening  danger  to  her 
father  eliminated. 

"  She's  simply  charming ;  I  didn't  appreciate 
her  a  bit  at  Allingwood,"  she  said. 

Her  two  hearers  agreed  perfectly  with  her  in 
this  enthusiastic  estimate  of  Miss  Hyde's  attrac- 
tions, although  neither  of  them  said  so. 

"  I  hope  she'll  come  over  here  a  lot  this  sum- 
mer," said  May. 

This  hope  was  silently  shared  by  the  gentlemen 
who  attended  her  words  with  a  taciturn  approval 
which  each  endeavored  to  conceal. 

"  She's  a  perfect  dear,"  Miss  Brinton  stated. 

This  last  remark,  laconic  but  embracing,  seemed 
to  the  capitalist  and  his  guest  to  hit  the  nail 
squarely  on  the  head. 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  her,"  said  Burgess.  "  You 
see  I  feel  somewhat  responsible  for  bringing  you 
together  again." 

"  Well,  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you,"  May 
asserted. 

The  physician,  whose  gray  whiskers  Eliot 
Frame  had  predicted  would  effect  an  instant 
cure  of  his  patient,  came  out,  followed  by  Miss 
Wylie,  and  getting  into  his  buggy,  which  a  small 


THE    LODESTAR  209 

colored  boy  was  holding,  he  drove  away.  Miss 
Wylie  came  up  to  Mr.  Brinton. 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  with  her  ?  "  asked  the 
capitalist,  cheerfully. 

The  reply  was  quite  unexpected. 

"  He  says  she's  got  the  mumps." 

Mr.  Brinton  looked  surprised.  Then  he  frowned 
slightly.  His  frown  was  succeeded  by  an  expres- 
sion of  humorous  reflection.  Suddenly  he  burst 
into  a  loud  laugh. 

"  The  mumps,  hey  ? "  said  he. 

May  Brinton,  Burgess,  Alice  Rawlins,  and 
Stuffy  Smith,  who  had  approached  to  learn  the 
verdict  of  the  man  of  medicine,  and  the  lady 
who  had  communicated  the  distressing  news, 
all  looked  at  him  in  somewhat  shocked  aston- 
ishment; his  attitude  toward  his  stricken  guest 
seemed  inexplicably  heartless.  In  the  opinion  of 
Alice  Rawlins  the  amusement  a  man  could  de- 
rive from  the  announcement  that  a  young  lady 
visitor  had  fallen  ill  had  best  be  concealed ;  she 
was  unable  to  recognize  the  basis  upon  which 
her  host's  sense  of  humor  was  founded.  But 
Mr.  Brinton  continued  to  laugh.  The  rest  of 
the  company  began  to  divert  their  attention  from 
him,  and  half-embarrassedly  sought  each  other's 
eyes.  Slowly  and  silently  they  commenced  to 


210  THE   LODESTAR 

veer  from  first  sympathy  to  the  capitalist's  point 
of  view. 

"  The  mumps !  O  Lord  !  "  said  Mr.  Brinton, 
slapping  his  knee  between  his  gasps.  Pauline 
Rawlins  and  Eliot  Frame  came  up,  and  their  host 
turned  to  them.  "  Charlotte  Worthington's  got 
the  mumps !  "  he  announced,  almost  overcome  with 
laughter. 

Suddenly  his  viewpoint,  even  more  contagious 
than  the  malady  by  which  his  guest  had  been 
attacked,  seemed  to  penetrate  simultaneously  the 
whole  group.  Men  and  girls  alike,  even  the  staid 
Miss  Wylie,  the  somewhat  proper  and  conscien- 
tious Alice  Rawlins,  and  the  unresponsive  Stuffy 
Smith,  exploded  in  a  shout  of  mirth. 

"  The  mumps !  O  Lord !  "  said  Mr.  Brinton, 
wiping  the  tears  from  his  eyes  with  a  garish 
pocket  handkerchief.  Eliot  Frame  leaned  help- 
lessly against  a  pillar,  collapsed  with  sheer 
amusement. 

"I  apologize,"  he  managed  to  articulate  to 
Pauline.  "I  did  the  lady  a  great  injustice." 
And  he  exploded  with  renewed  merriment. 

Miss  Wylie  was  first  to  recover  her  self-posses- 
sion. 

"I  don't  think  you're  very  sympathetic,"  she 
remarked  reproachfully. 


THE   LODESTAR  211 

Her  reproof  was  greeted  by  merely  another 
wild  outburst  of  laughter.  A  grave  servant  came 
to  say  that  luncheon  was  served. 

"  Poor  Charlotte ! "  said  Mr.  Brinton,  getting  to 
his  feet  weak  with  mirth.  "  Come  on  —  lunch. 
Poor  Charlotte!" 


WITH  no  perceptible  friction  Eleanor  Hyde  took 
her  place  in  the  Brinton  set  —  as  easily  as  if  she 
had  bought  her  way  into  it,  position  in  that  select 
circle  being,  indeed,  usually  gained  by  purchase, 
or,  more  strictly  to  speak,  by  the  mere  possession 
or  display  of  the  purchase  price.  But  Eleanor 
was  readily  welcomed  for  her  personal  attractions, 
and  her  lack  of  fortune  was  no  drawback  to  her 
advancement  in  the  favor  of  these  opulent  people. 
For  although  they  formed  an  aristocracy  of  wealth 
and  were  mostly  concerned  with  those  things  which 
directly  sprang  from  their  affluence,  such  as  gayety 
and  luxury  and  indolence,  in  other  ways  they  were 
entirely,  even  carelessly,  democratic.  No  one  of 
them  had  the  least  desire  to  probe  into  Miss  Hyde's 
ancestry  or  the  extent  of  her  income  ;  it  was  enough 
for  them  that  she  was  a  pretty  and  bright  and  grace- 
ful girl,  and  they  were  all  of  them  wholly  willing  to 
be  friendly  with  her. 

Under  these  conditions  the  limited  resources  of 
Eleanor  came  in  a  way  to  be  a  positive  advantage 

212 


THE   LODESTAR  213 

to  her.  Wealth,  except  in  simply  stupendous 
quantities,  could  not  have  affected  her  standing 
in  any  particular  with  the  men  of  the  party. 
Frame  and  Smith  and  Vanderveer  and  Burgess 
were  all  of  them  proprietors  either  of  independent 
fortunes  or  of  ample  expectations  which  shaded 
out  from  almost  certain  contingencies.  The  pos- 
session of  money  would  not  have  helped  Eleanor 
at  all  with  any  one  of  them ;  they  accepted  their 
own  opulence  quite  as  a  matter  of  course  and 
looked  upon  it  as  a  mere  convenience  to  which 
they  had  been  accustomed  as  long  as  they  could 
remember;  and  they  regarded  the  lack  of  equal 
material  fortune  in  others  with  the  same  casual 
composure.  Dollars,  except  in  enormous  num- 
bers, they  considered  to  be  articles  strictly  of  use 
and  not  of  reckoning,  and  Eleanor  would  have  had 
to  struggle  against  the  most  abject  and  outwardly 
evident  poverty,  or  else  to  roll  in  a  multitude  of 
millions,  in  order  to  have  attracted  their  attention 
to  her  financial  station  at  all. 

With  the  women  her  isolation  from  the  plutoc- 
racy was  a  real  advantage.  All  women  (and 
especially  those  of  like  ages)  regard  each  other 
as  possible  rivals,  and  those  of  the  Brintons'  set 
seemed  to  consider  their  wealth  to  be  a  sort  of 
helpful  armament,  the  lack  of  which  upon  Eleanor 


214  THE   LODESTAR 

they  felt  bound  to  recognize  by  a  display  of  addi- 
tional courtesy  toward  her.  They  were  not  in  the 
least  patronizing,  but  they  could  not  prevent  —  and 
they  did  not  try  to  prevent  —  their  gowns  and  their 
manners  and  their  conversation  from  savoring  of 
no  inconsiderable  money  output.  When  Miss 
Hyde  wore  a  white  dress,  the  men,  with  a  single 
composite  thought  to  the  general  effect  of  girl 
and  raiment,  would  doubtless  have  advanced  the 
unanimous  opinion  that  it  was  a  pretty  dress  and 
that  the  single  blue  cornflower  in  the  belt  added 
greatly  to  its  effectiveness.  If  closely  interrogated, 
they  would  very  likely  have  united  in  hazarding 
the  belief  that  it  was  constructed  of  inexpensive 
material  and  —  this  very  vaguely  —  that  they  had 
seen  it  before.  The  women,  on  the  other  hand, 
could  have  closely  estimated  the  very  modest  num- 
ber of  dollars  which  it  had  cost  and  the  sum  total 
of  times  it  had  done  service  in  their  presence ;  but 
they- were  sufficiently  well  bred  not  to  give  either 
to  Miss  Hyde  or  to  one  another  or  to  an  outsider 
the  slightest  indication  that  they  had  observed  the 
frock  at  all. 

It  could  not  be  gainsaid,  however,  that  Eleanor 
progressed  less  rapidly  into  their  favor  than  into 
that  of  the  men.  May  Brinton  was  generally  con- 
sistent in  her  friendship,  but  she  suffered  slight 


THE  LODESTAR  215 

sporadic  returns  of  her  first  suspicion  and  jealousy. 
Charlotte  Worthington  begrudged  and  envied  the 
girl  her  youth  and  prettiness  and  charm,  although 
she  was  far  too  diplomatic  to  let  her  secret  resent- 
ment be  known.  The  two  Rawlins  girls  had  the 
na'fve  Knickerbocker  surprise,  not  to  be  overcome 
in  an  instant,  that  anything  really  good  could  be 
found  outside  Manhattan,  and  it  took  them  some 
time  to  settle  down  into  the  concession  and  con- 
clusion of  Miss  Hyde's  desirability.  Miss  Wylie, 
the  colorless  chaperon,  regarded  her  in  a  sort 
of  reserved  approval  which  broke  no  ice  toward 
intimacy. 

Eleanor  was  much  more  warmly  received  by  the 
members  of  the  opposite  sex.  Eliot  Frame  was 
too  frank  to  conceal  the  fact  that  he  considered 
her  uncommonly  attractive,  even  though  his  admi- 
ration ran  the  risk  of  offending  Pauline  Rawlins, 
—  a  very  slight  risk,  because  Pauline  was  suf- 
ficiently broad-minded  to  like  his  sincerity  and 
finally  to  coincide  in  his  taste.  Stuffy  Smith  took 
an  opposite  course  for  caution,  and  made  a  quite 
futile  attempt  to  hide  an  opinion  similar  to  Frame's ; 
and  Alice  Rawlins,  who  was  clever  enough  to  per- 
ceive his  tactfully  intended  hypocrisy,  held  him  in 
a  little  additional  contempt  because  of  it.  Van- 
derveer,  the  nerve-shattered  stockbroker,  was 


216  THE  LODESTAR 

pleasantly  disposed  toward  Miss  Hyde,  but  took 
no  opportunity  to  advance  very  far  into  her  ac- 
quaintance; he  spent  most  of  the  time  lying  in 
a  hammock  perusing  huge  quantities  of  daily 
papers,  which  lay  about  him  in  dishevelled  piles. 
His  actions  • —  or  rather  his  inaction  —  somewhat  ir- 
ritated May  Brinton,  who  disapproved  of  what  she 
considered  to  be  his  unnecessary  display  of  indif- 
ference. Miss  Brinton  stated  to  her  father  —  and 
with  some  heat  —  that  Vanderveer  had  accepted 
an  invitation  to  what  he  knew  was  a  house  party, 
and  since  his  arrival  had  conducted  himself  as 
though  he  were  stopping  at  a  sanitarium.  So 
long  as  Charlotte  Worthington  was  confined  to 
her  room  with  the  mumps,  his  attitude  was  of 
positive  benefit  to  the  balance  of  the  company ; 
but  after  she  reappeared  upon  the  scenes,  his 
unwillingness  to  be  in  the  least  companionable 
resulted  in  the  duplication  of  an  odd  number 
and  was  a  considerable  drawback  to  the  poise  of 
their  plans. 

Miss  Worthington's  recovery  was  rapid.  No 
one  particularly  cared  whether  it  was  speedy  or 
slow,  with  the  exception  of  the  gray-whiskered 
doctor  with  the  allopathic  family,  who  would  have 
liked  to  prolong  the  remunerative  convalescence 
as  far  as  possible.  But  Charlotte  with  her  cus- 


THE   LODESTAR 


tomary  unconscious  lack  of  tact  was  quickly  up 
and  about  again,  fully  recovered  and  alert  to  every 
chance  for  mischief  of  her  favorite  sorts. 

The  attitudes  of  Frame  and  Stuffy  Smith  and 
Vanderveer  toward  Eleanor  have  been  briefly 
touched  upon.  The  attitudes  of  King  and  Burgess 
and  Mr.  Brinton  it  is  almost  unnecessary  to  discuss. 
Burgess  was  inclined  to  stand  out  of  the  way.  He 
liked  the  girl  well  enough,  but  he  quickly  perceived 
that  King's  liking  for  her  was  of  a  deeper,  stronger, 
and  more  serious  sort;  and  so  he  retired  to  the 
society  of  the  complaisant  May.  As  for  King, 
his  partiality  for  Miss  Hyde  soon  became  a  matter 
of  common  comment.  He  frequently  annexed  her 
for  long  drives  in  one  or  another  of  Mr.  Brinton's 
runabouts.  Mr.  Brinton  himself  scorned  to  use 
such  simple,  inconspicuous  vehicles,  but  he  main- 
tained them  for  the  benefit  of  his  guests,  while  he 
himself  dashed  recklessly  about  in  his  various  tour- 
ing-cars. He  was  constantly  inviting  parties  to 
accompany  him  on  cyclonic  runs,  but  his  willing- 
ness to  travel  at  less  than  two  or  three  times  the 
rate  of  speed  ordinarily  adjudged  to  be  safe 
on  the  rough  roads  of  the  countryside  made  his 
excursions  somewhat  unpopular.  Much  to  his 
disappointment,  those  he  sought  as  guests  often 
timidly  advanced  strange  protests  and  bashfully 


218  THE   LODESTAR 

but  firmly  declined  to  risk  their  lives  on  his  pleas- 
ure trips.  His  initial  spin  with  Vanderveer  almost 
resulted  in  a  relapse  on  the  part  of  the  nerve- 
strung  stockbroker,  who  subsequently  stated  from 
the  vantage  of  a  hammock  that  one  afternoon 
with  Mr.  Brinton  was  a  qualified  deal  worse  than 
any  three  panics  he  had  ever  been  through 
on  the  floor  of  the  exchange.  The  capitalist's 
clientele  of  voluntary  guests  gradually  dwindled, 
and  finally  he  was  reduced  to  picking  up  natives 
of  the  town  and  carrying  them  off  through  the 
country  at  fearful  speed.  The  natives  were  invari- 
ably terrified  and  clung  aghast  to  the  sides  of  the 
car  as  it  ate  its  way  up  crooked,  rocky  hills,  and 
slammed  down  appalling  slopes  with  frightful 
velocity.  They  would  limply  descend  to  the 
ground  at  their  journey's  end  with  heartfelt  relief, 
and  spend  the  next  few  days  in  bragging  to  their 
friends  and  neighbors  over  their  exploit;  and 
indeed  there  was  little  need  or  chance  for  arti- 
ficial illumination  in  the  recounting  of  their 
narratives.  Among  the  Methodists,  where  the 
capitalist's  chief  acquaintance  lay,  automobiling 
with  Mr.  Brinton  became  a  most  popular  diver- 
sion, although  only  the  most  venturesome  or  those 
whose  minds  were  calmly  set  upon  a  higher  life 
dared  trust  themselves  in  his  extraordinary  hands. 


THE   LODESTAR  219 

It  was  certainly  a  fine  form  of  excitement  which  he 
led  into  many  otherwise  uneventful  lives.  One  of 
his  most  loyal  followers  on  his  breakneck  tours 
was  enormous  Mrs.  Al  Squires,  who  always  wore 
a  drab  mackintosh  and  carried  smelling-salts.  Her 
fidelity  and  confidence  were  rewarded  by  frequent 
invitations  from  the  magnate,  although  he  covertly 
confessed  that  the  springs  usually  had  to  be  thor- 
oughly overhauled  after  every  trip  on  which  she 
occupied  the  tonneau,  and  that  the  general  struc- 
tural strain  on  his  machines  from  her  weight  was 
something  too  distressing  to  contemplate. 

But  while  Mr.  Brinton  was  pursuing  his  perilous 
way  without  mishap,  the  same  fortune  was  not 
attending  the  affairs  of  Stuffy  Smith  —  poor 
Stuffy,  so  anxious  to  please  and  so  rarely  pleasing, 
always  falling  under  the  wheels  of  the  very  cars 
which  bore  his  opportunities,  rising  up  disheart- 
enedly  after  one  defeat  only  to  plunge  headlong 
into  another.  This  time  he  had  been  so  indiscreet 
as  to  form  a  slow  but  a  very  decided  desire  to  marry 
Alice  Rawlins,  which,  in  a  person  of  a  superior  in- 
telligence, would  have  been  termed  falling  in  love. 
Yet  love  seemed  scarcely  a  suitable  word  to  apply 
to  the  emotions  of  Sturtevant,  with  his  air  of  pain- 
ful embarrassment,  his  yellowish  hair  and  promi- 
nent nose,  his  large,  pale  blue  eyes  always  seeking 


220  THE  LODESTAR 

with  shifty  uneasiness  some  narrow  avenue  of 
escape,  and  his  complete  deficiency  in  humor, 
sympathy,  erudition,  imagination,  and  tact.  And 
yet  better  things  might  have  been  expected  of 
him,  for  he  came  of  pleasant  stock.  His  father 
was  the  czar  of  a  flourishing  monopoly,  and  one 
of  his  uncles,  whose  tastes  ran  to  politics,  had 
contributed  a  large  sum  to  his  party's  campaign 
fund,  and  upon  the  party's  quite  unexpected 
success  in  the  ensuing  elections  had  been  made 
minister  to  a  small,  remote,  and  unimportant  state, 
where  each  year  he  was  called  upon  to  spend  sev- 
eral times  his  salary  in  the  entertainment  of  impe- 
cunious and  often  insistent  fellow-countrymen,  some 
of  whom  he  was  obliged  to  send  back  to  America 
at  his  own  expense.  As  for  Stuffy,  he  did  nothing 
except  enjoy  himself,  and  succeeded  only  infre- 
quently in  that. 

One  of  the  most  attractive  qualities  in  the  yellow- 
haired  youth  was  his  complete  lack  of  conceit.  To 
be  sure  he  had  no  especial  reasons  for  self-con- 
gratulation, but  conceit  does  not  always  follow 
along  the  lines  of  reason,  and  he  might  easily  have 
believed  himself  to  be  of  far  more  merit  than  was 
actually  the  case.  His  own  estimate,  which  was 
based  on  a  total  absence  of  confidence,  narrowly 
approximated  the  feelings  of  his  wide  acquaintance, 


THE   LODESTAR  221 

and  indeed  it  was  a  fact  that  he  had  been  brow- 
beaten into  a  thorough  belief  in  his  utter  impos- 
sibility by  the  strong  and  united  opinion  of  his 
friends  and  relatives  to  that  effect. 

Stuffy's  attitude  toward  Alice  Rawlins  was  char- 
acteristic. In  one  of  the  peculiar  ramifications  of 
his  soggy  mentality  he  had  burst  through  to  a  clear 
conclusion  that  he  greatly  wished  to  marry  the 
girl.  Exactly  why,  he  could  not  have  told,  for  he 
reasoned  along  a  single  dimension,  but  the  point  of 
his  desire  was  definite  enough.  Long  since  he  had 
given  Alice  to  understand  his  laborious  and  over- 
whelming anxiety  to  please  her.  Her  rooms  had 
been  suffused  with  his  flowers,  which  she  time  and 
again  had  urgently  besought  him  to  desist  from 
sending  her;  he  had  persisted  in  inviting  her  to 
every  conceivable  form  of  entertainment  and  had 
been  infrequently  rewarded  by  an  acceptance ;  he 
made  calls,  long,  tedious,  numerous,  which  the  re- 
luctant object  of  his  affections  tolerated  because 
she  could  think  of  no  plausible  reason  for  termi- 
nating them ;  in  a  word  he  was  a  thorough  and 
painstaking  suitor  of  the  very  deadliest  type. 

All  this  time  Miss  Rawlins  had  given  him  not 
the  slightest  encouragement,  Stuffy  gloomily  con- 
ceded. She  had  taken  his  lesser  gifts  under  pro- 
test and  had  flatly  rejected  his  major  ones.  She 


222  THE   LODESTAR 

had  accepted  his  invitations  grudgingly,  and  she  had 
often  denied  him  her  presence,  when  any  master 
mathematician  tolerably  adept  in  putting  two  and 
two  together  would  have  concluded  that  she  merely 
did  not  care  to  be  seen.  But  Smith  fortified  him- 
self at  heart  against  all  these  repulses  in  a  single 
way.  He  clung  to  the  positively  brilliant  theory 
that  even  if  Miss  Rawlins  liked  him,  she  was  too 
proud  a  girl  to  let  for  an  instant  her  maidenly 
feelings  be  shown  to  the  world.  In  which  he  in- 
cluded himself.  So  he  took  refuge  from  his  pal- 
pable rebuffs  in  the  slight  chance  that  she  was 
playing  a  part  and  that  she  was  unwilling  to  dis- 
play what  she  really  felt  toward  him.  Smith's 
subtle  argument  was  this  —  that  even  if  she  liked 
him  well  enough  to  make  possible  that  which  he 
desired,  he  was  not  clever  enough  to  discover  it 
except  by  the  most  direct  methods.  He  therefore 
determined  to  make  trial  of  these  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment,  and  awaited  a  propitious  oppor- 
tunity. 

The  opportunity  seemed  to  have  come  one 
evening  shortly  after  dinner.  The  Brintons  and 
their  guests  had  been  sitting  about,  taking  their 
coffee  on  the  piazza..  Four  of  them  were  making 
up  a  game  of  cards.  The  moon  was  just  beginning 
to  rise  clear  and  yellow  over  the  top  of  a  long, 


THE   LODESTAR  223 

straight  ridge,  when  Sturtevant  suggested  to  Alice 
that  they  go  down  into  the  orchard  and  watch  it 
rise.  This  was  a  rather  surprising  proposal  for 
him  to  make,  because  no  one  supposed  that  he 
regarded  the  moon  as  in  any  way  decorative,  but 
every  one  rather  assumed  that  he  viewed  it  as  a 
weak  but  useful  light  whose  benefits  he  accepted 
off-hand  and  whose  permanent  eclipse  or  total  loss 
he  would  have  endured  with  perfect  equanimity. 
Of  its  romantic  properties  he  would  have  admitted 
he  had  not  the  slightest  notion,  but  he  had  heard 
or  somewhere  read  that  the  orb  exercised  a  con- 
siderable influence  in  romantic  directions  upon 
young  ladies  as  a  whole,  and  he  was  glad  to  accept 
the  chance  of  its  assistance  in  the  case  on  hand. 
As  for  Alice,  she  accepted  his  proposal  to  go  into 
the  orchard  because  she  herself  held  a  reasonable 
appreciation  of  beauty,  and  because  she  was  good- 
humoredly  willing  to  encourage  Stuffy  into  a  more 
intelligent  liking  for  such  objects  as  moons  and 
stars  and  sunsets  and  clouds  and  flowers.  It  did 
not  occur  to  her  that  his  liking  for  anything  at  all 
would  overbalance  his  inertia  of  diffidence  and 
carry  him  off  to  distances  of  perplexity.  But 
almost  instantly  she  saw  that  she  had  miscalcu- 
lated. 

There  was  a  rail  fence  at  the  end  of  the  orchard, 


224  THE   LODESTAR 

and  the  yellow-haired  youth  leaned  against  it,  ner- 
vously filling  a  pipe.  It  was  a  crisis  in  his  life, 
and  he  attacked  the  subject  uppermost  in  his  mind 
without  giving  any  introductory  warning. 

"  Say,  Alice,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  want 
you  to  marry  me."  Then  he  stopped  short,  over- 
come by  the  sheer  realization  of  his  burst  of  temer- 
ity and  presumption.  Not  daring  so  much  as  to 
glance  at  his  companion,  he  lit  his  pipe,  striking 
three  matches  tremulously. 

The  girl's  first  impulse  was  to  turn  around  and 
walk  back  to  the  house,  leaving  him  standing  there. 
Her  second  was  to  voice  a  decided  and  a  rather 
indignant  decimation.  Then  it  chanced  that  for 
just  an  instant  her  eyes  fell  on  Smith,  a  figure 
almost  pathetic  in  his  helplessness  and  nearly 
ridiculous  in  his  blind  sincerity.  In  his  embarrass- 
ment he  stood  leaning  uneasily  against  the  fence 
and  waiting  —  waiting  with  a  dumb  impotency 
against  events  for  the  blow  to  fall.  Miss  Rawlins 
checked  her  inclination  to  go  away,  and  her  anger 
softened  into  mere  annoyance ;  for  no  matter  how 
impossible  a  man  may  be,  his  true  desire  of  a  girl 
will  excuse  very  many  things  in  her  eyes,  and  Alice 
was  convinced  that  the  unhappy  Stuffy  was  abso- 
lutely sincere.  All  his  actions  had  been  consistent, 
and  he  was  far  too  stupid  for  pretence  or  to  carry 


"'SAY,  ALICE,  ...  I  WANT  YOU  TO  MAKUY  ME.' 


THE   LODESTAR  225 

out  for  long  a  manufactured  part  with  any  degree 
of  success. 

"  Say,  Alice,  I  want  you  to  marry  me,"  he 
repeated,  taking  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth  and 
staring  blankly  through  the  low  branches  of  the 
apple  trees  that  cut  the  climbing  moon. 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  Stuffy.  But  I  can't,"  said  the 
girl,  and  there  was  a  curious  mixture  of  curtness  in 
her  words  and  softness  in  her  voice. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  her  companion,  persisting. 

Miss  Rawlins  hesitated.  It  seemed  a  trifle 
brutal  to  tell  him  the  entire  truth  and  inform 
him  that  she  would  not  for  an  instant  consider 
marrying  him,  even  if  all  the  remaining  males 
of  the  whole  human  race  should  be  suddenly 
extinguished  at  a  single  stroke.  She  thought 
of  saying  to  him  that  she  did  not  care  for  him 
in  the  way  he  ought  to  be  cared  for,  but  she 
caught  herself  wondering  what  way  that  could 
possibly  be ;  she  could  no  more  imagine  any  one 
else  falling  in  love  with  Stuffy  than  she  herself 
could  have  performed  this  emotional  trick  to  his 
benefit.  She  said  the  same  words  over  again. 

"  I'm  very  sorry.     But  I  can't." 

A  cloud  of  smoke  shot  out  from  under  the  young 
man's  prominent  nose  up  into  the  moonlight. 

"  Say,  I'm  afraid  I  don't  say  it  the  right  way," 
Q 


226  THE   LODESTAR 

he  remarked  discouragedly.  "  I  never  asked  a  girl 
before  to  marry  me,"  he  explained. 

Judging  from  the  amateurish  and  thoroughly 
bungling  manner  in  which  he  was  conducting  the 
present  proposal,  the  girl  in  question  was  quite 
ready  to  accept  this  statement  as  true.  It  was 
incredible  that  any  experience  at  all  in  previous 
similar  affairs  could  have  been  of  so  little  benefit 
to  the  man  under  fire.  At  the  very  least  his 
declaration  was  highly  plausible. 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  Miss  Rawlins,  with  gravity. 
"But  I  can't  marry  you,  Stuffy — really,"  she 
hastened  to  add. 

The  large  pale  blue  eyes  of  the  chunky  youth 
wandered  dejectedly  over  the  ground.  He  did  not 
move  a  muscle. 

"Don't  you  think  you  might  —  some  other 
time  ? "  he  ventured  into  a  future  refuge. 

At  the  awkward  way  in  which  the  yellow-haired 
one  had  sought  permission  to  renew  his  suit  at  a 
subsequent  date  the  girl  found  it  difficult  to  repress 
a  smile.  In  fact  Sturtevant's  whole  campaign  had 
been  so  respectful  and  colorless  and  unimaginative 
and  generally  incorrect  and  dull  as  to  be  somewhat 
absurd. 

"I  know  I'm  not  much  use  —  people  think  I'm 
a  regular  dub  —  but  it  isn't  all  my  fault,"  he  con- 


THE   LODESTAR  22/ 

tinued.  "  I  can't  offer  you  much  except  every- 
thing I've  got  —  and  myself  —  and  that  isn't 
much,"  he  said  pleadingly,  with  slight  ambiguity 
as  to  what  item  his  last  deprecatory  statement 
should  apply. 

"  That's  all  any  man  can  offer  a  girl,"  Alice 
acknowledged  politely.  She  did  not  add  that  in 
the  present  case  it  was  not  nearly  enough.  What- 
ever the  extent  of  Stuff y's  present  or  prospective 
fortune,  he  himself  could  not  be  considered  an 
accompanying  asset  worthy  of  serious  considera- 
tion. Yet  his  feeling  for  her,  dull  as  it  was,  she 
knew  to  be  genuine,  and  upon  this  account  she 
forgave  him  much  and  felt  a  real  regret  that  he 
had  gone  so  far. 

"I'm  sorry  —  but  it's  simply  out  of  the  ques- 
tion," she  said,  as  kindly  as  she  knew  how,  and 
she  began  to  walk  back  toward  the  house,  the 
rejected  and  dejected  Smith  following  mournfully 
after  her,  mute  and  unprotesting. 

Down  at  the  end  of  the  garden,  variations  on 
the  same  motive  were  being  played  by  Pauline 
Rawlins  and  Eliot  Frame. 

Frame  had  led  rather  a  scarlet  life.  His  career 
at  Harvard  had  been  marked  by  more  eccentrici- 
ties of  conduct  than  distinctions  in  study,  his  most 
notable  exploit  having  been  a  repetition  of  Paul 


228  THE   LODESTAR 

Revere's  ride  which  began  with  tremendous  suc- 
cess, all  the  sleeping  farmers  along  the  road  being 
aroused  from  their  beds  by  the  announcement  that 
the  British  were  coming,  but  which  ended  in  Eliot's 
passing  a  part  of  the  night  in  the  inglorious  con- 
fines of  the  Lexington  lockup.  After  graduation  he 
had  transferred  his  existence  to  another  stage  with- 
out lessening  in  the  least  its  velocity.  He  rode  hard, 
and  he  drank  hard,  and  sometimes  he  worked  hard, 
and  he  lived  hard  —  all  of  them  very  sporadically. 
Recently  he  had  become  exceedingly  tired  of  the 
set  in  which  he  had  raced  through  recent  years, 
and  he  unconsciously  longed  for  a  change.  He 
was  wearier  than  he  well  knew  of  roulette  wheels 
and  horse-races  and  habitually  unchaperoned 
young  women  with  dangerously  decollete  gowns 
and  fluffy  hair,  who  smoked  cigarettes  and  dis- 
cussed delicate  questions  with  astonishing  infor- 
mality. His  male  friends,  most  of  whom  were 
drunk  in  various  degrees  and  disorderly  in  diverse 
and  often  quite  ingenious  ways  at  frequent  inter- 
vals, no  longer  amused  and  interested  him  as  of 
old.  In  this  state  of  mind  it  was  quite  natural 
that  he  should  turn  to  the  acquaintance  of  a  girl 
who  had  been  raised  in  the  most  rigid  and  rigorous 
orthodoxy  of  blue  blood,  who  swayed  toward  the 
properly  conservative  without  nearing  the  prudish, 


THE   LODESTAR  229 

who  was  clean-minded  and  wholesomely  clever  and 
good-looking  in  a  clear,  quiet  way.  Such  a  girl 
was  Pauline  Rawlins. 

She,  on  her  side,  had  good  reason  to  fancy 
Eliot.  He  was  big  and  handsome  and  eminently 
a  man  of  the  world  she  had  as  yet  little  viewed. 
She  liked  the  dash  with  which  he  did  things, — 
and  he  did  many  things  in  excellent  form,  —  and 
she  admired  him  for  his  strength  and  enthusiasm 
and  generosity,  although  all  these  excellent  quali- 
ties were  too  frequently  misdirected  and  badly 
used  by  their  careless  possessor. 

The  same  yellow  moon,  which  had  come  up  over 
the  ridge  to  witness  the  scarcely  contested  discom- 
fiture of  the  unlucky  Stuffy,  was  shining  brightly 
through  the  garden.  There  was  a  soft  touch  of 
warm  evening  breeze  and  a  faint  scent  of  roses. 
Back  through  the  trees  the  lights  of  the  house  were 
dimly  visible,  and  the  sound  of  a  banjo  energetically 
strummed  came  out  on  the  night.  The  man  and 
the  girl  stood  listening,  and  then  Frame  spoke. 

"  Well,  this  is  my  last  evening  with  you  —  for  a 
while,  at  least,"  he  said  regretfully. 

"  You  really  have  to  go  back  ?  "  Pauline  asked. 

"  Yes.  There  are  about  forty  things  I've  got  to 
do,  and  I've  made  positive  engagements  to  do  them 
all.  You  see  the  things  I've  got  to  do  are  the  only 


230  THE   LODESTAR 

things  I  ever  do  at  all ;  the  things  I  merely  ought 
to  do  I  just  let  slide." 

"  I'm  sorry  you  have  to  go,"  the  girl  said. 

The  big  young  man  looked  quickly  down  at  her, 
and  the  light  that  lay  in  the  depths  of  his  eyes 
leaped  to  the  surface. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  that,  Pauline  ?  "  he  said. 

There  was  a  queer,  tense  ring  in  his  voice,  which 
predicted  to  his  companion  the  approach  of  the 
evitable. 

"Why,  of  course,"  she  answered  with  an  odd 
mixture  of  steadiness,  hesitation,  and  reluctance. 

"  How  sorry  are  you  ? "  Frame  asked  earnestly. 

"  Why,  I  don't  know,"  the  girl  answered.  She 
gave  an  uneasy  little  laugh,  and  she  was  thinking 
very  fast,  for  she  had  not  determined  whether  to 
accept  this  suitor  or  to  reject  him.  "  I  don't  know 
how  to  measure  it.  But  I'm  sorry  —  it's  been  very 
pleasant  here." 

"I  asked  you  because  it  means  a  great  deal  to  me 
— more  than  anything  else  there  is,"  the  man  went 
on  swiftly.  He  came  over  and  put  his  hand  on 
her  shoulder.  "  Because  if  you're  sorry  I'm  leav- 
ing, that's  all  I  want  —  because  I  never  want  to 
leave  you." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  girl.  She  shrank  a  little  under 
the  touch  of  his  hand,  but  she  did  not  go  away. 


THE   LODESTAR  23 1 

"  Because  I  love  you,"  said  Eliot  Frame. 

"  Oh !  "  said  Pauline  again,  and  there  fell  a 
silence  between  them. 

"  I  love  you  more  than  anything  in  the  world," 
the  man  went  on.  "  And  I'm  almost  afraid  to  tell 
you  so ;  it  sounds  like  a  —  like  a  sort  of  sacrilege. 
And  I  don't  know  what  I  can  give  you  —  but  I'll 
try  to  give  you  all  the  best  that  I  know  how.  I'm 
afraid  it  isn't  very  good ;  I've  been  a  pretty  bad 
sort,  Pauline  —  I've  done  a  great  many  things  I 
shouldn't  have  done,  and  as  soon  as  I  began  to 
know  you  I  was  sorry  I  had  done  them,  but  — 
well,  perhaps,  you  can  understand." 

"  Yes.  I  think  that  I  can  understand,"  Pauline 
said  slowly  —  rather  softly.  She  never  quite 
understood  before ;  sometimes  she  had  shrunk 
from  Frame  in  very  fear,  but  now  she  was  really 
touched  and  carried  away  by  the  sincerity  of  his 
desire  of  her. 

"  Pauline,"  said  the  man,  half  appealingly. 

She  dared  one  glance  at  him  as  he  stood 
awaiting  his  fate  in  her  reply;  it  was  enough 
—  he  saw  the  look  in  her  eyes,  and  master- 
fully, almost  roughly,  he  caught  her  in  his  strong 
arms. 

"  My  darling !  "  he  said  passionately,  and  the 
girl  surrendered. 


232  THE   LODESTAR 

Next  morning  when  Eliot  Frame  was  forced  to 
go  down  to  the  city  on  urgent  business,  he  was 
somewhat  unexpectedly  accompanied  by  Sturte- 
vant  Smith. 


XI 


GRADUALLY  the  guests  at  the  Brinton  house 
drifted  away,  and  as  much  tranquillity  as  could 
ever  be  found  where  Mr.  Brinton  disported  him- 
self again  reigned  over  his  portion  of  the  village 
of  Burnham.  Of  all  the  visitors  one  remained ; 
Hamilton  King,  who  had  concluded  his  story  of 
Harmony  Dale,  had  no  especial  reason  to  return 
to  the  city,  and  found  his  surroundings  completely 
satisfactory. 

To  May  Brinton  he  was  a  very  welcome  guest. 
Her  energetic  father's  flying  fancies  always  alarmed 
her ;  she  saw  from  the  first  a  romantic  menace  in 
the  proximity  of  pretty  Eleanor  Hyde,  and  the 
balancing  presence  of  the  attractive  young  novelist 
made  toward  Mr.  Brinton's  repression  in  this  quar- 
ter. May  had  seen  enough  to  justify  her  assump- 
tion that  King's  attentions  to  Eleanor  were  based 
on  a  more  than  casual  liking  for  her,  and  under 
the  circumstances  she  would  have  been  glad  to  see 
the  affair  take  a  smooth  channel  and  arrive  at  a 
logical  conclusion.  King  would  make  a  brilliant 
233 


234  THE   LODESTAR 

• 

match  for  the  attractive  country  girl.  But  to 
Miss  Brinton's  uneasiness  there  were  unmistak- 
able counter-attentions  toward  Eleanor,  and  they 
issued  from  her  inscrutable  and  irresponsible 
father;  for  unless  the  capitalist  was  endeavoring 
to  prove  himself  a  most  thorough  hypocrite,  it 
was  fairly  clear  that  he  must  be  counted  among 
the  admirers  of  the  brown-eyed  New  England 
maiden.  Just  how  far  his  admiration  would  carry 
him  his  daughter  had  no  means  of  reckoning,  but 
she  was  ready  to  welcome  all  desirable  competitors 
who  sought  to  take  up  the  fight  against  him  to 
gain  the  first  place  in  the  good  graces  of  the  some- 
time Allingwood  girl.  So  she  made  the  Brinton 
house  as  agreeable  as  possible  for  King,  and  every 
inducement  which  she  could  command  she  exer- 
cised toward  the  purpose  of  persuading  him  to 
continue  his  visit. 

She  could  command  many  and  forceful  induce- 
ments. The  novelist  had  been  reared  in  a  very 
fair  degree  of  comfort,  but  never  before  had  he 
lived  the  life  of  the  luxury  that  pays  and  ques- 
tions not.  The  Brintons'  house  ran  like  clock- 
work—  like  exceedingly  expensive  and  elaborate 
clockwork.  Every  slightest  wish  or  want  seemed 
instantly  and  automatically  gratified.  Servants 
moved  noiselessly  about,  executing  King's  spoken 


THE   LODESTAR  235 

desires  and  even  anticipating  correctly  what  they 
would  be,  for  which  latter  talent  they  received 
large  wages.  Whatever  he  felt  disposed  to  do,  the 
implements  suitable  to  it  were  immediately  placed 
at  his  disposal;  books  and  horses  and  iced  bever- 
ages and  golf  clubs  were  ready  to  his  service  at  a 
tap  or  a  look.  The  dishes  set  before  him  at  meals 
such  as  he  had  never  tasted,  constructed  by  a  chef 
of  both  imagination  and  skill,  defied  his  guessed 
analysis  but  contributed  greatly  to  his  satisfaction. 
In  the  very  companionship  of  those  near  him 
King  found  himself  equally  fortunate ;  when  he 
was  in  a  companionable  humor,  May  —  and  some- 
times she  brought  it  about  that  Eleanor  came  in 
her  place  —  seemed  almost  miraculously  to  appear 
and  bear  him  pleasant  company;  when  he  fell 
into  a  mood  where  he  would  be  let  alone,  re- 
markably enough  the  whole  house  apparently 
respected  his  silent  wish  for  solitude.  In  this 
time  Miss  Brinton  showed  that  she  possessed  to 
a  high  degree  a  quality  which  she  certainly  could 
not  have  inherited  from  her  father,  —  the  quality 
of  tact.  If  her  tact  were  a  quality  inherited  at  all, 
the  late  Mrs.  Brinton  must  have  been  a  paragon  of 
social  diplomacy. 

But  there  was  one  influence  which  was  slowly 
working  upon  May  to  divert  her  from  the  course 


236  THE   LODESTAR 

she  had  planned  and  was  cleverly  pursuing.  It 
was  a  large  influence,  and  it  was  this.  The  longer 
Hamilton  King  remained  at  Burnham  the  more 
she  felt  herself  dangerously  attracted  to  him. 
Very  gradually  and  in  a  transition  which  she  her- 
self scarcely  realized,  she  commenced  to  look  upon 
him  not  only  as  an  excellent  check  to  the  possibly 
planned  indiscretions  of  her  father,  but  as  exceed- 
ingly welcome  upon  his  own  account,  and  under 
these  circumstances  she  began  to  verge  into  a  feel- 
ing of  jealousy  toward  Eleanor  because  of  the  evi- 
dent esteem  in  which  that  young  lady  was  held  by 
the  novelist.  It  did  not  seem  quite  fair  for  Miss 
Hyde  to  monopolize  the  admiration  of  so  desirable 
a  man.  May  was  a  very  proud  girl  —  far  too 
proud  to  acknowledge  even  to  her  own  heart  that 
she  could  compete  for  a  man's  favor,  but  under 
the  smooth  surface  she  was  annoyed  over  the 
progress  King  seemed  quietly  to  be  making. 
However,  she  consoled  herself  with  the  reflection 
that  his  advance  was  steadily  adding  to  her 
father's  security. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  Mr.  Brinton  should  logically 
have  been  in  less  danger  than  she  supposed  him  to 
be.  Eleanor,  with  her  brown  eyes  and  her  quiet, 
graceful  ways,  had  made  a  strong  impression  upon 
him ;  but,  to  speak  frankly,  her  type  was  far 


THE   LODESTAR  237 

above  his  grosser  powers  of  appreciation.  Briefly, 
Miss  Hyde  appeared  to  best  advantage  in  some 
very  simple  white  gown  with  two  or  three  red 
roses  at  her  waist  or  in  her  smooth  brown  hair; 
the  capitalist  preferred  women  who  could  stand 
strong  colors  and  rich  fabrics  and  heavy  lace  in 
large  quantities,  who  had  the  assumption  and 
confidence  of  experience,  and  who  shone  as  sturdy, 
handsome  backgrounds  against  which  diamond 
sunbursts  might  be  effectively  set.  He  customa- 
rily chose  knowledge  before  simplicity,  dignity 
before  grace,  majesty  before  charm.  In  sight  of 
these  preferences  Eleanor  was  perfectly  safe,  for 
it  was  highly  unlikely  that  Mr.  Brinton  would 
meditate  bestowing  his  tempered  affections  upon  a 
young  girl  who  differed  so  far  from  the  standards 
of  his  previous  taste,  especially  in  consideration  of 
the  fact  that  he  had  for  so  many  years  remained 
immune  to  the  straight-shot  glances  of  dozens  of 
eligible  women  of  his  favorite  type.  But  his 
daughter  did  not  reason  thus  clearly. 

Little  by  little  Miss  Brinton  relaxed  her  filial 
watchfulness  as  her  attention  was  more  and  more 
drawn  to  King.  She  managed  to  be  more  fre- 
quently in  his  company,  and  his  small  courtesies 
she  accepted  with  avidity,  where  formerly  she  had 
passed  them  easily  by.  The  novelist  came  to  dis- 


238  THE   LODESTAR 

cover  that  his  opportunities  to  enjoy  singly  the 
society  of  Eleanor  were  being  gently  and  grad- 
ually checked.  Trifling  inconveniences  to  their 
excursions  and  meetings  kept  presenting  them- 
selves ;  petty  interruptions  were  constantly  coming 
forward.  Without  perceiving  by  whose  hand  it 
was  being  done,  his  attention  was  awakened  to 
feel  the  silken  cord  slowly  tighten  upon  his  im- 
pulses. The  end  of  the  empty  piazza  and  the 
full  moon  were  no  longer  for  him  and  Eleanor 
alone. 

At  about  this  time  enterprising  Mrs.  Al  Squires 
determined  to  assist  the  slowly  accumulating  fund 
for  erecting  a  new  parsonage  and  to  give  it  a 
sharp  upward  turn  through  the  medium  of  a  bene- 
fit entertainment.  To  this  end  she  went  to  call 
for  advice  upon  Mr.  Brinton,  who,  by  his  activity 
at  the  spring  fair,  had  inadvertently  for  him  come 
to  be  regarded  by  the  Methodists  as  their  chief 
local  benefactor.  She  was  in  grave  doubt  as  to 
what  form  her  projected  entertainment  should 
take.  Of  course  another  similar  fair  could  easily 
be  organized,  and  if  Mr.  Brinton's  good  nature 
held  out  to  a  repetition  of  his  tactics  of  wholesale 
and  indiscriminating  purchase  which  he  had  dis- 
played on  the  previous  occasion,  it  would  be  a 
pleasing  and  profitable  venture;  but  she  was 


THE   LODESTAR  239 

somewhat  apprehensive  lest  to  such  an  affair  the 
capitalist  would  forcibly  donate  the  remarkable 
collection  of  articles  which  he  had  been  induced 
to  buy  on  his  first  evening  in  the  village,  and 
decline  to  buy  them  over  again  at  exorbitant 
prices.  This  possibility  was  too  awkward  to  con- 
template, and  Mrs.  Squires  rather  reluctantly 
sacrificed  her  idea  of  another  fair. 

"  I  s'pose  we  might  give  some  kind  of  a  show. 
Oh,  if  we  only  had  your  colored  men ! "  said  the 
stout  lady,  reflecting  upon  the  instant  popularity 
they  had  achieved. 

The  capitalist  caught  the  idea  with  enthusiasm. 

"  The  very  ticket !  A  variety  show !  I'll  bring 
'em  up  for  it,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  will  you  ?  "  exclaimed  his  friend,  clasping 
her  fat  hands  together  in  joy  and  smiling  a  corpu- 
lent smile  of  adipose  gratitude  at  the  magnate. 

"  You  just  bet  I  will,"  replied  Mr.  Brinton,  ear- 
nestly. "  Now,  what  have  you  got  here  in  the  way 
of  local  talent  ?  " 

Frankly,  local  talent  was  neither  numerous  nor 
of  a  very  high  order  of  merit  in  Burnham,  for  it 
had  had  scant  chance  for  development.  The 
entertainments  of  recent  date  had  been  for  the 
most  part  made  up  of  underdone  lyrical  or  over- 
done oratorical  selections.  Young  ladies  whose 


240  THE   LODESTAR 

voices  showed  traces  of  incorrect  cultivation  sang 
long,  badly  chosen  songs,  following  falteringly 
insecure  accompaniments,  or  else  they  delivered 
themselves  in  acid  tones  of  recitations  which  were 
always  steeped  in  cheapest  pathos  or  morbidly 
melodramatic.  Once  in  a  while  those  busy  souls 
who  directed  the  church  organization  flung  all  the 
performers  together  in  a  laborious  and  lugubrious 
cantata,  stuffed  with  stupid  songs  about  bees  and 
birds  and  flowers,  and  teeming  with  tiresome,  tune- 
less recitatives  in  which  the  artists  made  conscien- 
tious but  frequently  unsuccessful  efforts  to  effect 
a  final  connection  with  the  keys  on  which  they 
had  originally  started.  All  in  all,  local  talent 
could  scarcely  be  said  to  promise  a  very  dazzling 
success. 

Mr.  Brinton  considered  them  as  a  whole  and  as 
integral  performers,  and  his  verdict  retired  them 
to  the  wings. 

"They're  all  right,  but  they  lack  novelty,"  he 
stated  to  Mrs.  Squires.  "  You've  heard  the  whole 
string  of  them  dozens  of  times.  What  we  want 
is  something  new  —  something  that  people  will  be 
glad  to  dig  up  their  coin  to  see.  Now  maybe 
we'll  be  able  to  use  your  friends  as  a  hidden 
chorus  or  something  of  that  sort,  but  as  stars  they 
can't  quite  qualify.  But  you  leave  it  all  to  me, 


THE   LODESTAR  241 

and  I'll  deliver  the  goods  all  right;  I'll  get  you 
up  a  show  that'll  make  your  dead  deacons  hop 
up  into  the  front  seats." 

Mrs.  Squires  was  firmly  of  the  belief  that  if 
any  one  was  capable  of  performing  this  miracle, 
John  S.  Brinton  was  surely  the  man ;  in  fact  she 
was  rather  nervous  lest  he  overexert  his  capabili- 
ties. 

Mr.  Brinton  caught  up  the  matter  of  the  enter- 
tainment with  rebounding  enthusiasm,  because  he 
had  been  somewhat  depressed  over  the  downfall 
of  Stuffy  Smith  at  the  hands  of  Alice  Rawlins. 
He  had  no  deep  affection  for  the  chunky  youth, 
and  he  conceded  Miss  Rawlins's  privilege  to  dis- 
pose of  his  suit  as  she  saw  fit,  but  he  was  sorry 
that  the  affair  had  culminated  under  his  hospit- 
able roof,  —  in  much  the  same  way  he  regretted 
Charlotte  Worthington's  attack  of  mumps;  he 
felt  a  measure  of  responsibility  for  his  enjoyment 
while  he  was  a  guest  at  the  Brinton  house,  and  it 
was  tolerably  evident  that  the  yellow-haired  young 
man's  visit  to  Burnham  had  not  been  capped  by 
any  keen  delight.  The  real  pleasure  Sturtevant 
had  taken  in  automobile  dashes  and  the  eel-ex- 
terminating spectacle  and  a  few  other  toward 
incidents  could  scarcely  have  compensated  him 
for  his  rejection  by  the  girl  he  desired  to  wed. 


242  THE   LODESTAR 

The  rest  of  the  party  felt  no  great  sympathy 
for  poor  Stuffy.  May  Brinton,  with  latent  irrita- 
tion for  another  reason,  laughed  at  his  pathetic 
discomfiture.  Charlotte  Worthington  was  an- 
noyed that  he  had  preferred  the  penniless  Alice 
Rawlins  to  herself.  Miss  Wylie  took  a  mere 
coldly  impartial  notice  of  him.  Eleanor  Hyde 
knew  him  hardly  at  all.  King  and  Burgess  and 
Thatcher  Vanderveer  all  cordially  disliked  him. 
Pauline  Rawlins  was  generally  thought  to  applaud 
her  sister's  judgment,  and  Eliot  Frame,  who  could 
afford  to  be  magnanimous  and  who  usually  was, 
treated  him  with  a  sort  of  contemptuous  pity. 
So  Stuffy  went  back  to  the  city  and  for  the  mo- 
ment sank  from  sight  because  he  found  no 
sympathy  from  those  he  knew  best. 

Meanwhile  the  situation  at  Burnham  was  grow- 
ing tenser.  King  was  beginning  to  grow  restive 
under  May  Brinton's  diplomatic  restraint.  Mr. 
Brinton  seemed  to  find  new  attractions  in  Eleanor. 
May  was  slowly  withdrawing  the  first  stock  of 
affection  which  she  had  expended  upon  the  New 
England  girl,  and  this  affection,  which  she  would 
gladly  have  changed  to  a  form  suitable  to  the  op- 
posite sex  and  given  back  to  the  novelist,  was  now 
a  worrying  mass  upon  her  heart  and  soul.  She 
assumed  toward  her  father  and  toward  her  school 


THE   LODESTAR  243 

friend  a  petulance  which  neither  of  them  could 
analyze.  They  could  not  see  why  May  was  forti- 
fying a  position  which  implied  an  antagonism  to 
them  both.  Eleanor  at  times  suspected  that  May 
was  angry  with  her,  but  in  the  consciousness  of 
innocence  she  did  not  reason  why,  nor  did  she 
mention  the  subject  of  her  friend's  increasing 
coolness. 

To  make  matters  worse,  Eleanor  went  driving 
with  King  one  day,  the  horse  bolted  at  sight  of  a  road 
engine,  and  they  both  of  them  were  thrown  out. 
This  incident  annoyed  May  exceedingly.  No  one 
was  hurt,  and  the  damage  done  was  trifling,  but  the 
very  mischance  furnished  an  additional  bond  of 
friendly  sympathy  between  the  two,  which  she 
greatly  grudged.  She  would  have  much  preferred 
to  have  herself  been  thrown  out,  and  she  suspected 
strongly  that  if  King  had  been  devoting  a  proper 
proportion  of  his  attention  to  the  horse,  the  run- 
away might  easily  have  been  averted.  This  inci- 
dent happened  shortly  before  the  much  heralded 
variety  show. 

For  this  occasion  Mr.  Brinton  had  gone  beyond 
the  church  and  hired  the  new  town  hall.  This 
was  a  large,  unsightly,  modern,  oblong  structure 
which  stood  on  the  main  street  in  the  centre  of 
the  village.  It  was  painted  an  offensive  cream- 


244  THE   LODESTAR 

color,  and  light  green  blinds  covered  its  long, 
gaping  gashes  of  windows.  Upon  it  was  a  high, 
bare,  shingled  roof  that  sloped  to  a  central  peak, 
and  in  front  of  its  wooden  steps  was  a  square 
stone  horse  block.  In  this  building  town-meetings 
were  held,  in  which  inexpert  speakers  advocated 
or  opposed  the  advisability  of  macadamizing  the 
main  street,  and  passed  the  schoolteachers'  ex- 
pense accounts ;  here  political  speakers  alternately 
wept  and  bellowed,  pointed  with  pride  and  viewed 
with  alarm,  and  itinerant  theatrical  troupes  occa- 
sionally spent  a  usually  profitless  evening. 

The  day  of  the  Brinton  vaudeville  came  at  last. 
The  performers,  whom  the  capitalist  had  person- 
ally engaged  in  New  York,  arrived  on  the  after- 
noon train  and  created  much  comment.  They 
were  indeed  a  throng  of  haughty  souls,  and  after 
registering  at  the  Inn,  the  most  of  them  swaggered 
carelessly  about  town,  staring  sneeringly  into  the 
sky,  regarding  the  provincial  shop  windows  with 
supercilious  scorn,  and  passing  the  interested  and 
impressed  villagers  with  never  a  look.  The  Mon- 
tague Sisters  —  Flora  and  Felice  —  commanded 
the  most  attention  because  of  their  fashionable 
clothes  and  complexions.  They  wore  enormous 
picture  hats  and  cascaded  bewitching  smiles  with 
lavish  impartiality  upon  the  ambient  air.  They 


THE   LODESTAR  245 

were  accompanied  upon  their  tour  by  Joe  Kelly 
and  McGuire  Tim,  who  later  in  the  evening  in 
their  knockabout  sketch  entitled  —  but  this  is  to 
anticipate.  Mr.  Brinton  himself  appeared,  escort- 
ing a  thick-set,  thuggish-looking  person,  whom  he 
generously  introduced  to  his  large  acquaintance 
as  Laurence,  the  Paper  Hanger.  "  Just  wait  till 
you  see  him  to-night,"  he  remarked  knowingly 
to  every  one,  for  Mr.  Brinton  was  alert  to  the 
possibilities  in  proper  advertising.  The  Swiss 
Bell  Ringers  promptly  sought  out  the  cafe  of  the 
Inn,  where  they  sat  stolidly  consuming  astonish- 
ing quantities  of  whiskey-and-water.  Professor 
Vincent  busied  himself  completing  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  care  of  his  trained  swans.  Several 
of  the  party  sauntered  into  the  town  hall,  which 
was  being  cleaned,  and  made  critical  inspections 
of  its  stage.  The  good  people  of  Burnham 
crowded  the  sidewalks  of  the  main  street,  and 
the  Methodists  held  their  heads  especially  high 
with  a  certain  pride  of  possession  in  the  professor 
and  the  Montague  Sisters  —  Flora  and  Felice  — 
and  Laurence,  the  Paper  Hanger,  and  all  the 
rest. 

Sunset  had  hardly  fallen,  when  directly  after 
supper  the  ticket-office  in  the  town  hall  opened, 
and  those  of  lesser  wealth  commenced  to  filter 


246  THE   LODESTAR 

through  the  doors.  Most  of  the  floor  had  been 
reserved,  but  the  rear  portion  and  all  the  over- 
hanging balcony  were  open  to  first  comers.  These 
spaces  were  rapidly  filled  by  a  set  of  men  who 
wore  blue  flannel  shirts,  chewed  tobacco,  and 
laughed  noisily  over  the  crudest  attempts  at  wit 
on  the  part  of  any  one  of  their  number.  Pres- 
ently the  janitor  of  the  hall  appeared,  lighting  the 
lamps ;  he  was  warmly  applauded  by  the  gallery, 
and  this  created  much  amusement. 

Then  the  main  body  of  the  house  began  to 
arrive,  singly,  in  pairs,  and  in  groups,  fumbling 
for  their  pink  tickets.  There  were  young  men 
in  shiny,  black  serge  cutaways,  red  neckties, 
and  much-brushed  hair,  escorting  bashful  young 
ladies ;  family  parties  which  included  timid  little 
girls  with  spindly  legs  incased  in  white  stock- 
ings; summer  residents,  the  men  in  dinner  coats 
and  the  women  in  complicated  cloaks  which  they 
spread  over  the  backs  of  their  seats,  —  these  sum- 
mer residents  gave  the  impression  of  good-natured 
tolerance  with  the  whole  affair.  The  Methodist 
minister  and  his  wife  came  in,  she  leading  by  the 
hand  their  little  boy,  who  was  dressed  in  black 
velveteen  knickerbockers  and  a  broad,  flat,  white 
collar,  with  a  big,  sbf t  bow  tie  of  magenta  silk ; 
they  took  their  seats,  the  minister  bowing  gravely 


THE   LODESTAR  247 

and  his  wife  pleasantly  to  various  acquaintances. 
The  greatest  sensation  was  caused  by  the  arrival 
of  Mr.  Brinton's  own  party,  and  the  gallery  craned 
its  neck  to  see.  The  commander,  in  full  dress 
and  bearing  his  tall  silk  hat  magnificently,  led  his 
contingent  up  the  aisle,  nodding  right  and  left, 
and  smiling  with  important  anticipation.  There 
were,  besides  himself,  Miss  Wylie,  the  colorless 
chaperon,  May  Brinton,  Eleanor  Hyde,  and 
Hamilton  King.  Mr.  Brinton,  with  customary 
liberality,  had  purchased  an  entire  row  of  seats, 
and  upon  some  of  the  unoccupied  ones  the  mem- 
bers of  the  party  piled  their  various  wraps  and 
hats.  The  orchestra,  which,  as  well  as  the  per- 
formers, had  been  brought  from  the  city,  com- 
menced to  collect,  uncasing  and  adjusting  and 
tuning  their  instruments,  laughing  and  talking 
together  in  German.  The  oboe  player  had  a 
great  joke  upon  the  second  violin  —  there  could 
be  no  doubt  of  that;  he  explained  it  to  the  sad- 
looking  little  cellist,  who  smiled  wanly,  drawing 
his  bow  softly  over  the  strings.  Mr.  Brinton 
excused  himself  to  his  friends  and  disappeared 
in  the  direction  of  the  rear. 

Presently  the  leader  of  the  orchestra,  a  gray- 
haired  man  with  a  huge  nose  and  thick  eye- 
glasses, took  his  seat  and  rapped  sharply  with  his 


248  THE   LODESTAR 

violin  bow.  The  hum  of  conversation  about  the 
hall  ceased  as  the  musicians  struck  into  a  medley 
from  a  popular  comic  opera.  As  they  finished, 
Mr.  Brinton  came  back  to  his  seat,  and  his  return 
amid  the  final  crashing  chords  of  the  medley  was 
met  by  hand-clapping. 

As  the  first  number  on  the  programme  the 
Romanellis  were  billed  to  appear.  They  were  de- 
scribed —  decoratively  but  somewhat  indefinitely — 
as  equilibrists ;  in  the  days  of  simple  speech  they 
would  have  been  called  jugglers.  There  was  no 
hint  to  indicate  the  number  or  sex  of  the  Roma- 
nellis, but  when  the  curtain  went  up  it  uncovered 
the  fact  that  there  were  two  of  them,  a  man  and 
a  young  woman.  Mr.  Romanelli  was  tastefully 
attired  in  a  regulation  swallow-tailed  coat,  black 
satin  knee-pants,  black  silk  stockings,  and  white 
shoes ;  as  the  curtain  rose  he  bowed  and  pulled  off 
his  white  gloves,  rolling  them  deftly  between  his 
hands  and  tossing  them  aside.  Mrs.  — or  perhaps 
Miss  —  Romanelli,  a  tired-looking  girl  with  hard 
lines  about  her  mouth  and  eyes,  wore  a  sky-blue 
decollet^  gown  with  a  very  short  skirt  and  white 
stockings.  The  two  artists  retreated  toward  a 
large  table  on  which  a  part  of  their  paraphernalia 
was  placed.  The  table  was  covered  with  a  cloth 
of  maroon  flannel,  and  on  the  side  which  overhung 


THE   LODESTAR  249 

toward  the  audience  was  embroidered  in  slightly 
tarnished  gilt  thread,  "The  Romanellis."  Each 
Romanelli  seized  from  the  table  a  wand  and  a 
large  plate  and  upon  the  wands  spun  the  plates 
vigorously  in  the  air  to  the  accompaniment  of  a 
jingling  galop.  Then  Mr.  Romanelli,  continuing 
to  spin  the  plate,  picked  up  a  large  platter  and 
spun  it  on  the  end  of  his  forefinger,  his  partner 
meanwhile  keeping  three  colored  balls  popping 
dexterously  into  the  air.  Next  Mr.  Romanelli  lay 
flat  on  his  back  on  a  small  platform.  On  to  the 
soles  of  his  upthrust  feet  his  wife  —  or  perhaps  his 
sister  —  placed  an  oblong  bamboo  screen.  In  each 
hand  he  held  a  short  wand  and  a  saucer.  The  or- 
chestra struck  up  a  slow  waltz,  and  Mr.  Romanelli 
commenced  simultaneously  to  spin  the  saucers  on 
the  tips  of  the  wands  and  to  revolve  the  bamboo 
screen  by  kicking  it  over  and  over,  his  sister  —  or 
his  wife  —  glancing  into  the  audience  with  smiles 
of  triumphant  pride.  Some  of  the  far-seeing 
mothers  among  the  onlookers  sighed  in  anticipation 
of  the  fearful  destruction  of  crockery  by  such  of 
their  offspring  as  would  doubtless  endeavor  next 
day  to  imitate  this  delightful  feat.  After  a  deal 
of  other  remarkable  manipulation  of  balls  and 
bottles  and  vases  and  flower-pots  and  open  um- 
brellas, Mr.  Romanelli  came  to  his  final  effort. 


250  THE   LODESTAR 

Taking  a  large  champagne  bottle,  he  carefully  bal- 
anced it  on  its  neck  on  a  light  chair,  and,  slowly 
raising  the  chair,  he  seized  the  lowest  rung  firmly 
in  his  teeth.  Miss  —  or  Mrs.  —  now  stepped  for- 
ward and  put  into  each  of  his  hands  two  green 
balls,  which  he  kept  tossing  into  the  air,  all  the 
while  maintaining  with  agonized  eyes  the  equipoise 
of  the  champagne  bottle  on  the  chair  which  he  was 
holding  in  his  muscular  mouth.  During  this  time 
the  music  went  on  with  a  continuous  roll  from  the 
snare  drum,  which  burst  into  a  final  crash  of  cym- 
bals as  Mr.  Romanelli  cast  away  the  green  balls 
and  let  the  chair  fall  from  between  his  powerful 
jaws,  catching  it  in  one  hand,  the  champagne  bottle 
in  the  other.  Setting  down  the  chair  but  still  hold- 
ing fast  to  the  bottle,  he  bowed  himself  into  the 
wings,  his  niece — as  was  discovered  upon  inquiry— 
following  with  a  generous  fixed  smile  and  a  pleased 
flirt  of  her  sky-blue  skirts.  There  was  a  volley  of 
applause,  and  Mr.  Brinton  leaned  over  to  King. 

"  He's  pretty  good,  isn't  he  ? "  he  commented. 
"  But  I  wish  I  could  have  got  Zoloso  —  the  great 
Zoloso,  you  know.  I  was  afraid  he'd  be  a  little 
too  warm  for  this  town.  You  see  his  best  trick 
is  balancing  himself  on  his  head  on  a  swinging 
trapeze,  and  taking  off  his  coat  and  vest  and 
pants.  Some  of  these  Methodists  might  get  up 


THE   LODESTAR  2$  I 

and  go  out  before  they  discovered  what  was  going 
to  happen." 

"  That's  true  enough,"  King  agreed. 

"  But  Zoloso's  a  wonder,"  the  dominating  spirit 
continued  reflectively.  "  He  could  stand  on  his 
head  and  play  a  Strauss  waltz  on  a  coach-horn, 
and  there's  very  few  of  them,  I  tell  you,  can  do 
that" 

The  novelist  felt  inclined  to  concede  the  limi- 
tation. 

The  second  number  had  originally  been  set  for 
the  rendition  of  a  solo  by  a  local  soprano,  Miss 
Gladys  Mumford,  the  daughter  of  the  proprietor 
of  the  local  hay-and-feed  emporium.  Miss  Mum- 
ford  possessed  a  very  fair  voice,  but  when  Mr. 
Brinton  heard  that  the  song  she  proposed  singing 
began,  "  Vision  of  loveliness,  hear  me ;  List  to  my 
passionate  plea,"  he  inflexibly  eliminated  Miss 
Gladys  from  the  programme  and  substituted  Jerry 
Brown,  a  negro  entertainer. 

Out  and  in  front  of  the  green  drop-curtain 
shambled  the  very  black  Jerry.  He  was  ex- 
tremely heavy,  and  lumbered  painfully  along, 
attired  in  a  flapping  dress  suit,  with  tremendous 
trousers  which  he  manipulated  with  evident  diffi- 
culty. Large  as  he  himself  was,  his  trousers,  it 
is  quite  safe  to  say,  would  have  furnished  suffi- 


252  THE   LODESTAR 

cient  material  to  make  a  number  of  complete  suits 
for  an  even  more  ponderous  man ;  they  could  have 
comfortably  clothed  a  small  elephant  or  a  Mrs. 
Al  Squires.  Fixing  the  assemblage  with  a  broad 
grin,  Jerry  burst  with  a  hoarse  baritone  into  his 
opening  song.  At  the  end  of  the  first  verse  he 
essayed  a  dance  of  a  few  shuffling  steps  and 
kicks,  but  to  his  distress  he  only  succeeded  in  time 
after  time  tripping  himself  in  his  huge  trouser 
legs,  and  sitting  down  with  a  resounding  thud  in 
a  cloud  of  dust  on  the  wooden  stage.  At  each 
collision  between  the  floor  and  Jerry's  anatomy 
the  audience  laughed  with  fresh  and  increased 
joy.  Finally  the  performer,  with  a  comic  air  of 
desperation,  reached  down  inside  his  waistcoat, 
seized  his  trousers,  drew  them  upward,  and  at- 
tached the  waistband  firmly  to  his  collar  button. 
In  hearty  appreciation  of  his  ingenuity  came  a 
spontaneous  shout  of  delight  from  the  onlookers. 
After  singing  two  or  three  songs,  and  completely 
convulsing  the  audience  with  several  trite  com- 
ments on  local  subjects,  which  had  been  inter- 
polated by  Mr.  Brinton  after  consultation  with 
Mrs.  Al  Squires,  Jerry  shambled  into  the  wings, 
and  the  curtain  rose,  disclosing  Professor  Vincent 
and  his  trained  swans. 

The   professor  —  whose    degree   had   doubtless 


THE   LODESTAR  253 

been  gained  in  an  aviary  —  was  seen,  dressed  in 
a  frock-coat  and  a  tall  silk  hat  which  he  flourished 
cheerfully  at  the  audience,  and  then  replaced 
carefully  on  his  head,  repeating  this  salutation 
with  a  pleased  smile  under  his  waving  blond 
mustache  after  each  exhibition  of  intelligence  on 
the  part  of  his  feathered  charges.  The  exhibi- 
tions consisted  of  a  series  of  performances  marked 
by  laboriously  dragged-out  displays  of  something 
which  verged  upon  discrimination  on  the  part  of 
the  unhappy  swans.  A  row  of  lettered  blocks 
was  shown,  and  from  the  letters  a  stout  fowl 
selected  those  in  succession  which  spelled  its 
name  —  Sam.  Professor  Vincent  rewarded  Sam 
by  taking  from  the  pocket  of  his  frock-coat  a  bit 
of  raw  fish  —  his  coat  pocket  somewhat  oddly 
seemed  to  be  full  of  this  delicacy  —  and  slipping 
it  dexterously  into  the  protruding  bill  of  his  ex- 
pectant pupil.  With  another  flourish  of  his  hat 
he  announced,  in  a  foreign  accent,  the  next  stupid 
feat  which  his  unfortunate  charges  were  prepared 
to  do.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  act  there  were 
nominal  manifestations  of  polite  approval  from 
the  body  of  the  house,  but  nothing  like  the  enthu- 
siasm which  black  Jerry  Brown's  successful  ma- 
nipulation of  his  enormous  trousers  had  aroused 
was  given  to  Sam  Swan  and  the  bowing  and 


2$4  THE   LODESTAR 

scraping   professor  and   the  rest  of   the   winged 
troupe. 

The  curtain  fell  again,  the  orchestra  struck  up 
the  introduction  to  a  lively  song,  and  the  Montague 
Sisters  —  Flora  and  Felice  —  skipped  out  from  the 
wings.  The  impressionable  young  men  through- 
out the  house  instantly  succumbed  to  their  pink 
cheeks  and  curling  yellow  hair  and  bare  white 
arms  and  short  silk  skirts  (which  displayed  their 
neat  ankles  and  the  suggestion  of  trimly  stock- 
inged legs)  and  their  bright  eyes  and  black  eye- 
brows and  lashes  and  their  manner  of  sparkling 
vivacity.  They  were  of  almost  exactly  the  same 
height  and  figure,  but  Flora  had  large  blue  eyes, 
while  the  effectively  flashing  orbs  of  Felice  were 
smaller  and  seal-brown.  And  Felice  had  a  long 
scratch  upon  her  arm,  while  Flora  exceeded  her 
sister  in  the  amount  of  gold  fillings  which  her  set 
smile  displayed.  They  stood  side  by  side  in  the 
centre  of  the  stage,  each  with  her  feet  together 
and  her  toes  turned  out,  each  bending  forward 
a  little  from  the  hips  and  holding  out  her  short 
skirts  to  the  side  with  both  hands.  Extending 
their  arms,  they  presently  burst  into  a  spirited 
lyric  in  which  their  passionate  fondness  for  rackety- 
whackety  boys  and  magnums  of  wine  and  the 
blisses  of  stolen  kisses  and  dear  old  London  town 


THE   LODESTAR  255 

were  mingled  in  confused  profusion.  This  song, 
saturated  with  a  highly  unconventional  atmosphere 
of  the  true  joie  de  vie,  the  blue-eyed  and  mis- 
chievous Flora  insisted  on  gayly  singing  straight 
at  the  Methodist  minister,  who  with  downcast  look 
stirred  uneasily  in  his  seat,  while  his  wife  colored 
with  mortification  and  annoyance.  F61ice  inter- 
polated into  her  part  a  decided  wink,  which  she 
shot  ardently  at  Mr.  Brinton,  who  received  and 
promptly  returned  it  with  slightly  amused  gratifi- 
cation. After  a  repetition  of  the  chorus  the  sisters 
took  hold  of  hands  and  commenced  to  dance,  each 
enlivening  her  ordinary  steps  by  occasionally  in- 
troducing a  sudden  kick  over  the  other's  head. 
This  greatly  pleased  the  majority  of  the  audience, 
and  among  the  young  men  there  were  many  un- 
spoken wishes  for  the  more  frequent  introduction 
of  this  specific  enlivenment.  There  was  hearty 
hand-clapping,  in  which  the  minister  and  his  wife 
failed  to  join,  when  Flora  and  Felice  bounded  off, 
rapturously  kissing  their  hands  in  reluctant  farewell. 
For  the  edification  of  the  Burnhamites  Mr. 
Brinton  had  next  provided  "  Laurence,  the  Paper 
Hanger,"  his  own  particular  pride.  The  scene 
showed  a  thick-set,  thuggish-looking  person  in  a 
short  sack-coat,  and  his  wife,  a  watery-looking 
woman,  in  a  blue  wrapper.  Laurence  was  holding 


256  THE   LODESTAR 

forth  vigorously  on  the  subject  of  domestic  eco- 
nomics. Useless  expenses  had  been  incurred ; 
he  intended  to  put  an  end  to  at  least  one  of  them ; 
the  room  needed  repapering,  and  he  purposed 
doing  the  job  himself  instead  of  employing  at  a 
large  cost  some  fellow  who  was  most  likely  incom- 
petent and  would  probably  steal  their  silverware. 
To  paper  a  room  was  comparatively  simple,  any- 
way, to  any  man  of  brains ;  a  step-ladder,  some 
paste,  a  brush  —  and  there  you  were  !  The  watery- 
looking  woman  began  to  protest  feebly,  sceptical 
of  his  ability,  but  Laurence  was  determined.  He 
bustled  out  and  brought  in  the  ladder  and  the 
bucket  of  paste  and  the  brush  and  the  rolls  of 
wall-paper.  His  wife  timidly  suggested  that  he 
change  his  clothes;  Laurence  rejected  this  sugges- 
tion with  considerable  indignation ;  he  didn't  in- 
tend to  spill  anything;  why,  the  job  was  scarcely 
more  difficult  than  licking  a  postage  stamp.  The 
watery-looking  woman  accepted  his  decision  with 
almost  tearful  resignation,  and  Laurence  ascended 
the  step-ladder.  But  no  sooner  had  his  work 
begun  than  strange  and  unexpected  difficulties 
rushed  to  the  fore.  Several  times  he  fell  off  the 
ladder  before  he  reached  the  top,  somewhat  to  his 
impatience.  Then,  to  his  surprise  and  chagrin, 
the  paper  stubbornly  declined  to  adhere  to  the 


THE   LODESTAR  257 

wall.  On  his  third  fruitless  attempt  to  effect  the 
desired  result,  he  lost  his  balance  and  stuck  one  arm 
in  the  glue  pail,  drawing  it  suckingly  out  with  what 
to  the  delighted  audience  seemed  evidently  to  be  a 
smothered  oath.  Hastily  reascending  the  ladder, 
he  went  too  far  and  fell  headlong  over  its  top, 
alighting  on  his  hands  and  turning  a  somersault. 
By  this  time  the  watery-looking  woman  was  sob- 
bing in  a  corner.  Frenzied  with  rage,  Laurence 
now  seized  the  paper  and  the  brush  and  dashed 
up  the  steps  again,  while  his  wife  stood  wringing 
her  hands  helplessly.  Untoward  fate  again  met 
him,  and  this  time  he  pitched  off  head-first  into 
the  paste  bucket.  Hurriedly  getting  on  his  feet, 
with  the  bucket  sticking  on  his  head,  he  com- 
menced to  disentangle  himself  from  the  roll  of 
paper.  The  orchestra  began  to  play  softly,  and 
the  unfortunate  amateur  paper  hanger  began  danc- 
ing in  time  to  its  strains,  the  long  roll  unfolding 
behind  him.  Still  firmly  clasping  the  brush,  with 
the  paste  oozing  down  his  face,  becoming  more 
and  more  entangled  in  the  unreeling  roll  at  every 
step,  Laurence  presented  in  his  frantic  appearance 
a  sight  so  ludicrous  that  the  audience  —  especially 
the  gallery — fairly  shouted  with  laughter.  The 
curtain  fell,  leaving  him  wholly  wound  in  the 
meshes  of  the  paper,  and  in  a  really  remarkable 


258  THE   LODESTAR 

predicament.  Mr.  Brinton  asserted  with  some 
pride  that  he  had  told  them  that  Laurence  was  all 
right. 

After  the  stage  had  been  cleared  of  the  mess 
which  the  paper-hanging  act  had  made,  the  Swiss 
Bell  Ringers  appeared.  The  astonishing  quanti- 
ties of  whiskey-and-water  which  they  had  swal- 
lowed while  sitting  stolidly  in  the  cafe  of  the  hotel 
had  not  affected  them  in  the  least,  somewhat  to 
the  surprise  of  those  who  had  noticed  the  extraor- 
dinarily long  and  strong  potations  they  had  suc- 
ceeded in  consuming.  They  gave  a  very  acceptable 
performance. 

Next  on  the  programme  came  a  short  farce,  and 
then  was  the  Carolina  Quartette,  and  to  the 
tremendous  delight  of  the  Methodists  it  turned 
out  to  be  the  colored  train  crew  of  Mr.  Brinton, 
dressed  in  loud  black-and-white  checked  suits  and 
reenf  orced  by  a  brother  baritone.  The  well-known 
dusky  faces  were  instantly  recognized,  and  a  great 
tide  of  applause  swept  through  the  hall,  while  Mr. 
Brinton  turned  around  in  his  seat  and  waved  his 
hand  to  Mrs.  Al  Squires,  whose  own  fat  hands 
were  pounding  each  other  like  two  adipose  fleshy 
trip-hammers.  The  Carolina  Quartette  performed 
with  great  credit  and  held  their  own  among  the 
professionals  without  the  slightest  difficulty. 


THE   LODESTAR  259 

Let  us  dwell  lightly  upon  the  remainder  of  the 
vaudeville.  Joe  Kelly  and  McGuire  Tim  in  their 
knockabout  sketch  entitled  "Brannigan's  Vaca- 
tion." The  Glonduro  Trio  —  their  first  appearance 
in  America  (as  they  were  always  advertised)  direct 
from  a  certain  London  music  hall,  which  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact  had  been  torn  down  some  five  years 
before.  Mademoiselle  Marseilles,  the  highest 
soprano  in  the  world,  whose  voice  almost  reached 
the  number  of  vibrations  per  second  inaudible 
to  the  human  ear.  All  of  the  artists  delighted,  and 
the  audience  departed  in  rare  good  humor,  most 
of  them  returning  directly  home  and  to  bed,  a  few 
of  those  with  sporting  inclinations  stopping  at  the 
Inn,  where  they  were  gratified  in  being  able  to 
watch  the  Swiss  Bell  Ringers  sitting  stolidly  in  the 
cafe,  consuming  a  long  series  of  vigorous  nightcaps. 
At  the  Brinton  house  the  commander  entertained 
at  supper.  Besides  those  in  his  party  at  the  per- 
formance, there  were  also  present  the  Methodist 
minister  and  his  wife,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Al  Squires, 
and  several  other  villagers  who  had  in  various 
ways  endeared  themselves  to  the  dominating  spirit. 
During  the  course  of  the  supper  Mr.  Brinton  arose 
and  in  a  short  speech  announced  that  it  would  be 
his  pleasure  to  defray  the  entire  expenses  of  that 
evening's  performance,  leaving  the  gross  receipts 


260  THE   LODESTAR 

to  be  applied  toward  erecting  a  structure  suitable 
to  house  the  body  and  intellect  of  his  friend,  the 
worthy  man  who  was  destined  to  occupy  it  (he 
hoped)  for  many  a  year.  The  minister,  who  had 
been  shocked  into  almost  a  nervous  paralysis  by 
the  actions  of  Miss  Flora  Montague,  brightened 
up  at  this  concrete  evidence  of  good-will,  for  mid- 
night fell  upon  the  certainty  of  his  new  home. 


XII 


WITH  a  complete  mutation  of  purpose,  May 
Brinton  decided  that  instead  of  restraining  her 
father,  she  would  thrust  him  forward,  in  the  hope 
of  thereby  strengthening  her  position  toward 
King.  It  was  a  dangerous  liking  that  she  was 
forming  for  the  novelist,  and  her  pride  turned  her 
very  slowly  to  this  new  determination ;  but  she  was 
clever  enough  to  see  that  he  was  very  rapidly  pro- 
gressing in  his  friendship  with  Eleanor,  and  that 
the  only  way  to  prevent  him  from  marrying  her 
was  to  arrange  for  her  speedy  annexation  by  some 
one  else.  Whether  it  was  not  already  too  late, 
whether  this  could  now  be  accomplished,  was  very 
dubious ;  but  if  it  could  be  done  at  all,  May  knew 
the  one  man  best  suitable  to  lead  the  attack, — 
John  S.  Brinton.  It  would  be  impossible  for  any 
man  of  King's  own  type  to  compete  successfully 
on  his  own  ground,  because  King  had  gone  too  far 
to  be  caught  by  any  pursuer  on  the  same  course, 
but  Eleanor  might  be  ambushed  and  carried  off 
from  a  new  point;  certainly  the  appearance  of 

261 


262  THE   LODESTAR 

Mr.  Brinton  as  an  active  aspirant  might  reason- 
ably be  expected  to  be  crowned  with  a  strong  hope 
of  victory.  In  this  wise  May  had  been  gradually 
swung  into  a  curious  reversal  of  position. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  renewal  of  her  friend- 
ship with  Eleanor,  she  had  been  suspicious  and 
jealous  of  Mr.  Brinton's  open  approval  of  the  girl. 
She  had  blocked  the  growth  of  their  friendship  in 
every  way  she  was  able,  and  had  interposed  every 
conceivable  safeguard  against  the  increase  of  their 
mutual  liking;  and  when  King  had  come  to  be 
considered  in  the  light  of  a  possible  candidate  for 
Eleanor's  affections,  May  had  welcomed  his  candi- 
dacy and  extended  to  it  her  unqualified  support. 
But  with  the  calorescence  of  her  own  feelings 
toward  the  novelist,  perplexities  clouded  the  fore- 
ground of  her  operations.  Her  difficulty  lay  in 
that  she  had  ceased  to  regard  him  as  a  mere  figure 
which  might  be  placed  as  an  effective  obstacle 
against  any  sign  of  a  dash  forward  on  the  part  of 
her  energetic  and  resourceful  father ;  she  had 
come  rather  to  consider  King  an  extremely  eligible 
man,  whose  eligibility  she  had  heretofore  failed  to 
appreciate,  and  whose  steps  she  had  injudiciously 
turned  toward  another  girl. 

At  this  time  she  was  merely  rivalling  in  her 
heart  with  the  unconscious  Eleanor  over  the  pos- 


THE   LODESTAR  263 

session  of  King,  while  the  capitalist  hung  in  the 
balance  of  her  apprehensions.  To  be  sure,  if  the 
novelist  should  win  the  other  girl,  as  May  had  set 
out  by  desiring,  Mr.  Brinton  would  be  safe  again, 
for  naturally  Miss  Hyde  could  accept  only  one  of 
the  two,  and  this  was  a  certain  consolation.  But 
against  her  new  desires,  this  consolation  was  abso- 
lutely insufficient.  Already  May  had  her  father, 
though  somewhat  insecurely,  but  King  was  an  in- 
dependent prize  at  stake,  and  she  confessed  to 
herself  that  she  wanted  him  very  badly.  And  she 
wanted  him  so  badly  that  finally  she  made  a  radi- 
cal move.  Instead  of  casting  him  in  the  way  of 
Mr.  Brinton,  she  interposed  Mr.  Brinton  to  block 
his  progress.  Instead  of  cherishing  jealous  anxi- 
ety lest  her  father  be  caught  by  the  charms  of  the 
brown-eyed  New  England  girl,  she  came  to  desire 
beyond  all  other  things  that  very  one  thing  which 
formerly  she  had  apprehended;  from  a  fear  lest 
her  father  might  form  the  purpose  of  marrying 
Eleanor,  she  came  around  into  a  sincere  wish  that 
he  would  arrive  as  speedily  as  possible  at  a  con- 
clusion of  her  desirability ;  instead  of  placing  King 
so  as  to  trip  Mr.  Brinton's  advance,  she  purposed 
taking  up  King  for  herself  and  setting  down  Mr. 
Brinton  in  his  stead.  It  was  an  odd  situation ; 
May's  idea  in  attempting  to  save  to  herself  a  pos- 


264  THE   LODESTAR 

sible  suitor  from  the  girl  of  his  apparent  choice  by 
putting  forward  her  own  father  as  a  rival  was  cer- 
tainly a  most  unusual  one.  And  she  resolved  to 
make  a  sounding  of  the  capitalist's  inclinations, 
and  upon  a  favorable  diagnosis  to  accelerate  his 
advance  in  the  direction  she  now  wished  him  to  go. 

And  there  was  some  justification  for  her  step 
besides  the  popular  refuge  in  the  proverb  that  all 
is  fair  in  love.  Not  a  definite  word  had  King 
uttered  to  indicate  that  his  affections  were  truly 
fixed  upon  Eleanor ;  moreover,  it  was  quite  likely 
that  next  to  her  he  regarded  May  herself  as  highly 
as  any  girl  he  knew.  May  considered  that  she 
had  every  right  to  eliminate  the  leader  and  reverse 
their  respective  positions  could  she  do  so  fairly  and 
with  dignity,  and  her  motive  in  projecting  her 
father  into  the  fore  was  based  on  this  considera- 
tion. If  Eleanor  could  be  taken  away  and  King 
left  free  to  set  his  next  choice  upon  whom  he 
pleased,  Miss  Brinton  confidently  cherished  the 
not  unreasonable  hope  that  the  choice  would  be 
set  upon  herself. 

The  substitution  of  Mr.  Brinton  for  King  would 
be  by  no  means  a  bad  one  for  Eleanor.  For  all 
the  novelist  was  clever  and  attractive,  the  capitalist 
could  give  her  a  great  deal  which  the  younger  man 
could  not.  To  be  sure,  May's  father  was  lacking 


THE   LODESTAR  265 

in  the  freshness  of  youth,  but  with  his  buoyancy 
of  temperament  and  his  hurtling  energy  he  took 
up  his  impost  of  years  like  a  feather.  Then,  too, 
he  had  everything  that  money  could  buy,  a  great 
deal  of  an  excellent  quality  of  everything  within 
that  limitation  —  and  money  can  buy  an  ex- 
traordinary number  of  pleasant  things  when  one 
goes  about  flourishing  unlimited  resources  after 
the  manner  of  Mr.  Brinton.  With  the  Brinton 
millions  and  Eleanor's  own  grace  and  tact  and 
beauty,  she  could  easily  come  into  a  social  position 
which  May  had  been  too  indifferent  to  assume. 
Briefly,  the  rampant  plutocrat  was  by  no  means  an 
undesirable  match,  and  May  honestly  felt  that 
Eleanor  might  be  far  more  happy  with  him  than 
with  some  one  of  many  other  men  closer  her  age 
and  tastes  and  free  inclinations.  She  sounded  her 
father  on  the  subject  with  elementary  directness. 

"  Papa,  I  want  to  ask  you  something,"  she 
remarked  one  evening. 

"  Shoot  it  out,"  said  the  good-natured  capitalist. 

May  regarded  him  seriously,  earnestly,  gravely. 

"  Have  you  ever  thought  of  marrying  again  ? " 
she  inquired. 

The  commander,  completely  taken  aback  by 
this  unexpected  interrogation,  attempted  to  stifle  a 
blush  —  a  tribute  to  the  shock  and  penetrating 


266  THE   LODESTAR 

power  of  his  daughter's  question.  Under  the  calm 
eyes  of  his  examiner  he  felt  a  chafing  guilt  such  as 
a  small  boy  feels  when  he  is  detected  after  some 
characteristic  misdemeanor.  He  felt  that  his  record 
was  not  wholly  clear,  and  indeed  in  day-dreams  he 
had  more  than  once  dared  a  glance  into  the  magic 
mirror,  although  he  had  never  shattered  the  glass 
and  awakened  to  face  the  realities  of  renewed 
matrimony. 

"  Why,  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  did,"  he  replied 
with  shifty  uneasiness.  He  had  been  thrown  on 
the  defensive  with  an  abruptness  which  had 
momentarily  confused  him. 

"Why  not?"  said  May. 

Mr.  Brinton's  confusion  increased.  This  second 
question  was  inexplicable  —  it  sounded  as  though 
it  were  leading  toward  an  encouragement  of  some- 
thing which  he  had  several  times  previously  been 
furnished  weighty  reasons  for  presuming  May 
would  violently  oppose.  There  came  into  his 
mind  two  plausible  avenues  of  retreat.  With  a 
show  of  spurious  emotion  he  might  say  that  his 
heart  was  buried  with  May's  mother  (with  whom 
he  had  been  constantly  at  odds),  and  that  never 
would  he  take  another  woman  to  fill  her  place  in 
his  life.  Or  he  might  say  that  because  of  the 
sorrow  her  death  had  caused  him,  he  was  loath  to 


THE    LODESTAR  267 

repeat  an  experiment  which  might  end  in  a  simi- 
lar sad  manner.  Although  neither  of  these  two 
explanations  was  quite  satisfactory  or  exactly 
sincere,  he  felt  that  clearly  some  suitable  allusion 
to  the  late  Mrs.  Brinton  should  be  made ;  yet  he 
could  think  of  none. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  May  repeated. 

"Why  should  I?  —  tell  me  that,"  he  inquired 
with  a  desperate  assumption  of  total  innocence. 

May  sat  down  in  a  wicker  easy-chair. 

"  Oh,  lots  of  reasons,"  she  responded  cheerfully. 

Her  father  scented  an  ambush  and  warily  de- 
clined to  be  drawn  forward. 

"  Now  what  are  you  driving  at,  May  ? "  he 
asked. 

"Well,"  said  his  daughter,  slowly,  "I've  often 
thought  it  would  be  a  good  idea  for  you  to  marry 
again,  and  as  I  was  afraid  you'd  think  I  would 
oppose  anything  of  the  sort,  I  decided  to  tell  you 
what  I'd  concluded." 

Mr.  Brinton  might  have  retorted  that  his  own 
conclusions  of  her  opposition  had  not  in  the  past 
been  wholly  fanciful,  but  a  positively  brilliant  idea 
occurre'd  to  him,  and  he  turned  interrogator. 

"Are  you  getting  tired  of  your  old  father?"  he 
inquired,  with  an  odd  mixture  of  real  curiosity, 
attempted  tenderness,  and  a  sort  of  casual  reproach. 


268  THE   LODESTAR 

"  Oh,  dear  no ! "  responded  the  girl,  in  hasty 
protest.  She  went  over  and  seated  herself  on  the 
wide  arm-rest  of  her  father's  big  chair,  putting  her 
arm  around  his  neck.  "  Not  at  all.  You  shouldn't 
say  such  a  thing."  Mr.  Brinton  had  really  been 
very  kind  to  her  in  a  thoughtless  way,  and  she 
realized  it.  "  But  I've  been  thinking,"  she  repeated. 

"A  great  mistake  for  a  girl  your  age,"  returned 
the  capitalist,  with  attempted  levity,  patting  her 
hand. 

May  declined  to  be  diverted. 

"You've  always  liked  girls  —  and  women  —  and 
they've  always  liked  you,"  she  continued. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  the  commander 
replied,  mildly  deprecating  this  accusation  of  popu- 
larity on  either  side. 

"I  don't  mean  that  I'm  discontented  —  or  any- 
thing of  that  sort.  Of  course  it's  very  nice  to  go 
along  as  we're  going  now,  but  I'm  thinking  of  the 
future,"  said  May,  gravely.  "  We  can't  go  on  this 
way  forever." 

"I  don't  expect  to,"  responded  Mr.  Brinton, 
shortly.  Indeed,  if  immortality  could  have  been 
purchased,  the  threat  of  any  mutation  would  have 
long  since  been  stifled,  regardless  of  expense. 

"  I'm  afraid  Cousin  Elizabeth  isn't  very  com- 
panionable to  you,"  his  daughter  continued. 


THE   LODESTAR  269 

This  Mr.  Brinton  tacitly  conceded.  Miss  Wylie 
made  a  fairly  presentable  figurehead;  she  filled 
her  place  in  the  household  without  especially  orna- 
menting it ;  but  she  was  at  best  inoffensive,  and 
she  lacked  every  quality  of  human  interest  which 
the  head  of  the  establishment  sought  and  demanded 
from  his  associates. 

"  And  I  may  not  always  be  here,"  said  May. 

Her  father  turned  and  looked  hurriedly  up  at 
her. 

"  What  in  the  devil  do  you  mean,  May  ?  Do 
you  feel  sick,  or  are  you  trying  to  tell  me  you're 
going  to  marry  some  fellow  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

His  daughter  blushed  a  little  at  these  pardonable 
inquiries.  She  gave  a  nervous  laugh. 

"Neither,"  she  replied.  "I'm  feeling  perfectly 
well,  and  I'm  not  thinking  of  marrying  any  one 
just  at  present ;  but  that's  not  saying  that  my  health 
will  always  be  good  —  or  that  I  shall  always  be 
here  with  you." 

The  commander  took  out  a  large  cigar  and 
thoughtfully  bit  off  the  end. 

"  Well,  May,  who  is  it  ? "  he  asked  curiously. 

His  daughter  interposed  a  quick  denial. 

"  No  one,  of  course,"  she  protested.  "  Didn't 
I  just  tell  you  I  wasn't  thinking  of  marrying  any 
one  ? " 


2/0  THE   LODESTAR 

The  capitalist  smiled. 

"You've  missed  my  point,"  said  he.  "Who's 
the  girl  —  or  the  woman  ?  You  wouldn't  come  and 
put  the  marriage  proposition  up  to  me  this  way 
unless  you  had  some  one  definite  in  your  head. 
The  whole  thing's  definite  all  the  way  through. 
Marriage  is  no  abstract  theory  of  happiness ;  it's 
either  the  real  thing,  or  it's  hell.  Come  now,  who 
is  it?" 

May  hesitated,  but  after  a  while  she  spoke. 

"Well,  I  was  thinking  of  Eleanor,"  she  con- 
fessed. 

The  commander  looked  surprised,  and  then  he 
smiled  again. 

"  Eleanor  Hyde  ? "  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  his  daughter  replied.  "  Don't  you  think 
she's  fine  ? "  she  asked  anxiously.  "  She's  awfully 
pretty."  The  admission  cost  her  a  pang  when  she 
thought  of  King,  for  all  she  herself  was  by  no 
means  destitute  of  physical  charm. 

"She's  certainly  that,"  Mr.  Brinton  conceded. 

"And  she's  tactful  and  graceful  and  nice  and 
—  and  everything  you'd  wish,"  urged  the  girl. 

"Yes.  I  thought  Hamilton  King  had  reached 
the  same  conclusion,"  the  capitalist  responded 
dryly. 

"  Oh,  every  one  does,"   May  quickly  rejoined. 


THE   LODESTAR  271 

"  No  one  could  help  it.  But  I  don't  believe  Mr. 
King  cares  more  for  her  than  any  of  us  do." 

"  Don't  you  ?  Well,  /  believe  he  does,"  retorted 
her  father,  bluntly.  "  I  tell  you  what  I'll  do, 
May."  He  put  one  leg  over  the  other  and  puffed 
his  cigar,  reflecting.  "I'll  bet  you  three  to  two 
Ham  King  marries  her  within  — well,  say  a  year." 

The  color  came  into  the  girl's  face.  Her  father's 
reduction  of  what  might  mean  her  future  happi- 
ness or  unhappiness  to  the  level  of  a  gambling 
proposition  and  a  vulgar  wager  struck  her  with 
extreme  disfavor. 

"I  don't  think  so  —  but  I  don't  care  to  bet," 
she  answered  a  little  angrily.  She  collected  her- 
self again.  "But  you  might  just  as  well  marry 
her  as  let  Mr.  King  have  her,"  she  persisted. 

The  plutocrat  got  up  out  of  his  chair. 

"  Now,  what  in  the  world  do  you  mean  by  all 
this,  May  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  tell  you  you'd  better 
drop  it ;  this  match-making  business  is  what  gets 
people  in  to  trouble — always.  Match-making  breaks 
up  more  families  than  it  creates,  in  my  opinion. 
Now,  I'm  not  in  the  marriage  market,  anyway, 
and  when  it  comes  to  Miss  Hyde,  I  think  she  likes 
Ham  King  pretty  well,  and  I  know  very  well  that 
he's  in  love  with  her.  Say,  do  you  want  to  put 
me  into  a  race  I'm  not  trained  for  and  get  me  off 


2/2  THE    LODESTAR 

in  the  ruck  and  have  your  father  beaten  out  at  the 
finish  by  a  clever  young  fellow  who  has  everything 
in  his  favor  except  a  lot  of  money  ?  What  do  you 
think  you're  trying  to  do  ?  It  seems  to  me  it's 
sort  of  queer,  anyway,  for  a  girl  to  try  and  marry 
off  her  own  father  to  one  of  her  school  friends; 
I  never  heard  of  anything  like  it  before.  I  don't 
understand  it  —  I  must  say  I  don't  understand  it 
at  all." 

And  he  walked  into  the  house. 

All  this  while  that  May  Brinton  was  being  un- 
happily racked  by  conflicting  emotions,  Eleanor 
Hyde  was  sailing  smoothly  on  the  stream  of  quiet 
content.  There  was  no  elemental  turbulence  and 
turmoil  in  the  temperament  of  the  New  England 
girl,  who  looked  at  a  peaceful  world  through  placid 
eyes  and  caught  the  sunshine  back  into  her  soul. 
Unaware  that  she  was  the  rock  upon  which  the 
happiness  of  more  than  one  person  was  beating, 
she  kept  on  her  way  with  a  singing  heart.  She 
could  not  help  but  see  that  in  Hamilton  King  she 
held  a  partisan  admirer,  but  she  frankly  liked  him 
in  return,  and  she  knew  of  no  one  who  might 
justly  and  rightfully  wish  to  constrain  their  rela- 
tions. Surely  May  Brinton  least  of  all,  —  May, 
who  had  thrown  them  together  on  every  possible 


THE   LODESTAR  2/3 

occasion,  who  had  apparently  been  glad  that  they 
had  fancied  each  other,  who  had  taken  up  the 
thread  of  a  slight  acquaintance  with  her  and  car- 
ried it  out  with  warm  generosity  into  a  real  inti- 
macy. In  the  sincerity  of  King's  whole  attitude 
toward  her,  Eleanor  felt  she  possessed  something 
presently  to  be  more  urgent  than  his  friendship ; 
but  she  did  not  hold  back. 

Early  in  August  King's  new  story  of  Harmony 
Dale  was  published.  On  the  day  of  publication 
two  copies  of  the  book  were  despatched  to  Burn- 
ham.  One  of  them  was  directed  in  the  handwrit- 
ing of  the  author  to  Miss  Eleanor  Hyde;  and  the 
other,  which  had  been  expressed  from  a  New 
York  City  book-shop,  was  addressed  to  Miss  May 
Brinton.  A  short  while  before  King  had  chanced 
to  mention  to  May  that  his  story  was  presently  to 
appear,  and  she  had  expressed  her  interest  in  it. 

"  I'll  send  you  up  a  copy  when  it  comes  out,  if 
you  like,"  the  novelist  had  said. 

"Oh,  don't  bother  about  it,"  the  girl  replied. 
"  I'll  order  it  from  town.  You  can  write  some- 
thing nice  on  the  fly-leaf  sometime  when  you're 
up  here,"  she  said  with  a  light  laugh. 

King  had  suddenly  fallen  serious.  At  the  mo- 
ment there  had  come  back  into  his  mind  something 
which  long  while  had  lain  dormant  but  waxing  in 


274  THE   LODESTAR 

the  drift  between  imagination  and  conviction.  He 
gave  an  odd  glance  at  the  girl. 

"All  right.  But  I'm  not  sure  you'll  want  me 
to;  I'm  not  sure  you'll  like  the  book,"  he  said 
with  a  curious  hesitation.  He  was  by  no  means  a 
vain  man  —  quite  the  opposite  ;  in  his  inmost  be- 
lief he  depreciated  the  measure  of  popularity  he 
was  able  to  achieve  among  women  ;  he  would  have 
sincerely  ridiculed  the  suggestion  that  Miss  Brin- 
ton  was  in  love  with  him ;  and  yet  he  was  not 
blind  to  the  perception  that  her  manner  toward 
him  had  of  late  undergone  a  change.  When  he 
first  met  her  she  had  been  evidently  anxious  that 
he  should  like  Eleanor ;  small  things  now  showed 
that  she  was  working  to  exactly  the  other  end. 

"  I'm  not  at  all  sure  you'll  like  it,"  he  repeated 
thoughtfully. 

May  laughed. 

"  What  a  modest  author !  "  she  said.  "  I  had  no 
idea  you  were  so  lacking  in  self-confidence.  What 
is  there  about  it  you  think  I  won't  like  ? " 

But  King  did  not  explain. 

Eleanor  Hyde  received  her  copy  of  the  book  out 
at  the  farm.  Hiram,  the  hired  man,  fetched  it 
from  the  village  with  the  rest  of  the  mail,  and  it 
lay  on  the  table  in  the  sitting  room  that  day  until 
Eleanor  returned  home  to  dinner.  She  saw  the 


THE   LODESTAR  275 

handwriting  —  by  this  time  familiar  —  and  called 
out  to  her  sister. 

"  Oh,  Elizabeth,  I  think  this  must  be  Mr.  King's 
story.  He  said  he  was  going  to  send  me  a  copy, 
you  know." 

The  tall,  spare  form  of  the  older  girl  came 
through  the  door  from  the  kitchen. 

"  Open  it,  and  we'll  see." 

Eleanor  snapped  the  string  with  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors and  unwrapped  the  stiff  brown  paper.  Inside 
was  a  volume  bound  in  dainty  gray,  and  on  the 
cover  were  the  name  and  some  maple  trees  within 
a  slender  silver  line.  The  girl  opened  the  book, 
Miss  Elizabeth  looking  interestedly  over  her 
shoulder.  She  turned  back  to  the  fly-leaf ;  in 
King's  chirography  was  written  down  the  page, 
"  E.  H.  from  the  author."  On  the  title-page  was 
printed,  "  Harmony  Dale.  By  Hamilton  King, 
author  of  Gray  Stars,  The  Fourth  Favorite,  and 
other  stories,"  and  the  additional  data  of  publica- 
tion. She  turned  over  the  leaf,  and  on  the  next 
page  in  the  centre  of  the  white  space  she  read, 
"ToE.  H." 

In  the  first  surprise  of  the  moment  Eleanor 
stood  looking  at  this  unexpected  dedication  —  a 
dedication  so  sudden  and  direct  as  to  be  almost 
a  declaration  —  in  blank  silence.  Confusion  and 


276  THE   LODESTAR 

maidenly  embarrassment  were  uppermost  in  her 
mind,  but  beneath  them  was  a  strong  rising  tide  of 
glad  pride  that  King  had  given  her  his  work  be- 
fore all  the  world.  The  flush  of  color  which  had 
come  into  her  cheeks  gradually  went  out  of  them 
again,  but  her  eyes  shone  very  bright.  This  trib- 
ute had  come  to  her  both  unasked  and  unoffered, 
and  from  the  man  who  had  begun  to  be  before  all 
others  in  her  thoughts.  Of  all  the  people  he 
knew  the  world  over,  this  brilliant  young  writer 
had  chosen  to  come  up  into  the  lonely  Connecticut 
hills  and  lay  his  book  at  the  feet  of  a  slim  girl  with 
brown  eyes,  who  could  give  him  nothing  in  return 
except —  She  turned  to  meet  the  questioning 
look  of  her  elder  sister. 

"Well?"  asked  Miss  Elizabeth,  in  constrained 
excitement. 

" '  E.  H.'  Do  you  think  E.  H.  means  me  ? " 
Eleanor  asked  in  return,  half  protestingly,  half 
anxiously. 

Her  sister  smiled  with  a  degree  of  perception. 

"  Didn't  Mr.  King  tell  you  he  was  going  to  do 
it  ? "  She  reflected.  "  Didn't  he  ask  your  per- 
mission to  do  it  ? "  she  inquired. 

"  Ask  my  permission  ?  —  of  course  not ;  he 
never  said  a  word  about  it,"  the  girl  replied. 
"  How  do  you  know  he  meant  me,  anyway  ?  E.  H. 


THE   LODESTAR  277 

are  very  common  initials  —  I'm  always  getting 
my  things  mixed  up  with  Eliza  Hodge's.  Besides, 
I  don't  believe  it's  necessary  to  ask  permission  of 
a  couple  of  initials  to  dedicate  a  novel  to  them," 
she  argued.  "  Perhaps  he  did  ask  permission  of 
the  real  E.  H.  — whoever  that  may  be." 

Miss  Elizabeth  reached  over  and  took  the  gray 
volume  and  turned  back  two  pages  to  the  fly-leaf, 
pointing  at  it  "  E.  H.  from  the  author." 

Eleanor  wavered. 

"Well,  I  think  it's  very  nice  of  him  —  if  he 
really  means  me." 

Her  elder  sister  smiled  silently. 

"  Although  I  don't  quite  see  how  I  can  find  out 
whether  he  really  does,"  she  finished. 

"You  might  ask  him,"  Miss  Elizabeth  sug- 
gested with  a  trace  of  amusement 

The  younger  girl  looked  at  her  with  some 
indignation. 

"Ask  him?  How  perfectly  absurd,  Elizabeth! 
I'd  rather  die  first" 

And  she  walked  out  of  the  room  —  bearing  with 
her  the  gray  volume.  Miss  Elizabeth  looked  after 
her,  still  smiling,  but  a  little  wistfully. 

May  Brinton  had  been  playing  tennis  that  morn- 
ing with  Stuffy  Smith,  who  was  again  the  guest  of 


2/8  THE   LODESTAR 

the  Brintons,  for  the  dominating  spirit  had  found 
the  yellow-haired  youth  moping  alone  in  a  corner 
of  the  club-house  during  the  progress  of  some 
Coney  Island  horse-races,  and  had  kind-heartedly 
carried  him  off  to  the  scene  of  his  recent  amatorial 
reverses.  May  played  a  strong  game  of  tennis, 
and  much  to  her  delight  she  had  succeeded  in 
defeating  the  chunky  visitor.  She  came  into  the 
house  very  hot,  with  her  hair  almost  down  her 
back  and  a  big  grass  stain  on  her  duck  skirt 
where  she  had  slipped  and  fallen,  but  in  excellent 
humor.  Calling  out  some  laughing  taunt  to  her 
vanquished  opponent,  who  had  stopped  to  light  a 
cigarette,  she  ran  upstairs  and  opened  the  door  of 
her  room.  On  the  little  table  beside  her  bed  lay 
a  small  express  package.  She  glanced  at  it  and 
decided  to  wait  until  dressing  for  lunch  before 
opening  it;  then  she  looked  at  the  name  of  the 
sender  and  saw  that  it  was  that  of  the  New  York 
bookseller  with  whom  she  dealt.  In  the  possi- 
bility that  the  parcel  contained  King's  new  novel, 
she  laid  down  her  racket,  took  up  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors from  among  the  silver  articles  which  lay  on 
her  dressing-table,  and  cut  the  strings.  The  un- 
doing of  the  wrappings  disclosed  the  gray  binding 
of  Harmony  Dale. 

May  lifted   the   book   rather  gingerly  in  order 


'"YOU    MIGHT    ASK    HIM.'" 


THE   LODESTAR  279 

that  she  might  not  soil  it,  and  opened  it  at  the  first 
chapter.  She  read  lightly  through  a  paragraph  or 
two,  and  then  turned  back  to  see  the  title-page. 
But  between  lay  the  dedication,  "  To  E.  H."  The 
girl  looked  at  this  casually,  without  at  first  perceiv- 
ing its  significance;  and  then  she  suddenly  saw, 
and  for  the  first  time  bitterly  knew  what  she  had 
heretofore  forced  herself  into  denying. 

"ToE.  H."  Eleanor  Hyde!  The  blood  rushed 
into  her  face,  and  she  set  down  the  book  as  though 
it  had  burned  her,  and  stood  looking  at  it.  And 
as  she  looked,  Harmony  Dale  slowly  closed  on  the 
tell-tale  page,  and  May  felt  that  the  dedication  had 
shut  out  the  chance  of  the  fulfilment  of  her  most 
strongly  cherished  desire.  It  never  occurred  to 
her  for  an  instant  that  E.  H.  might  be  another  than 
Eleanor.  She  accepted  the  situation  frankly. 

She  looked  down,  and  her  eye  caught  the 
blotched  green  stain  on  her  white  skirt ;  she 
frowned  and  glanced  again  at  the  gray  book  lying 
innocently  among  its  wrappings.  She  hastily 
lifted  her  look  and  by  chance  caught  sight  of 
herself  in  the  big  oval  mirror.  It  gave  her  back, 
standing  in  the  middle  of  the  cool,  neat  room,  very 
hot  and  tired  looking,  her  sleeves  rolled  up  and 
her  hair  disordered,  and  her  eyes  steely  cold 
above  her  flushed  cheeks.  Outside,  the  step  of 


280  THE  LODESTAR 

Stuffy  Smith  was  heard  passing  down  the  hall  to 
his  room. 

May  sat  down  rather  suddenly,  and  stared 
blankly,  steadily,  out  of  the  window  over  the  lawn, 
and  as  the  flush  slowly  faded  out  of  her  face,  the 
light  seemed  to  fade  out  of  the  sky.  She  looked 
helplessly  about  her,  and  the  hot  tears  came  into 
her  eyes. 


XIII 

MAY  BRINTON  was  unfortunate  in  that  she 
lacked  the  buoyant  temperament  of  her  father, 
and  the  following  days  went  very  gloomily  with 
her.  Her  state  of  mind  was  perceptible  to  the 
most  of  those  with  whom  she  came  in  contact,  and 
Stuffy  Smith,  who  was  at  no  time  distinguished 
for  tact,  confessed  that  he  found  his  young  hostess 
uncommonly  difficult  to  please.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  the  girl's  heart  had  suffered  slightly  and  her 
pride  had  been  badly  hurt.  For  although  she  had 
not  lost  any  of  her  dignity  in  the  eyes  of  the  outer 
world,  she  knew  in  her  soul  that  she  had  tried  to 
gain  away  the  superior  favor  of  a  certain  man,  and 
that  she  had  failed.  In  this  temper  she  met  the 
proffered  confidences  of  her  guest  more  acidly  than 
was  necessary  or  even  merciful  in  consideration  of 
the  lacerated  condition  of  his  own  affections. 

"  May,"  said  the  chunky  youth,  one  evening,  "  if 
you  were  a  man,  what  would  you  do  if  —  if  the 
girl  you  —  you  wanted  to  marry  —  well,  threw  you 
down  ? " 

281 


282  THE   LODESTAR 

Miss  Brinton  looked  at  him  a  trifle  scornfully  ; 
it  seemed  incredible  that  this  insipid  young  man 
with  the  round,  pale  blue  eyes  and  the  molasses- 
colored  hair  and  the  expression  of  profound  stu- 
pidity could  be  stirred  by  the  sweep  of  a  high 
passion. 

"I  don't  know.  I  might  shoot  myself,"  she 
replied  kindly. 

This  was  scarcely  the  sort  of  soothing  sympathy 
for  which  the  depressed  Sturtevant  was  secretly 
yearning.  He  was  promptly  shut  to  silence. 

Since  the  publication  of  Harmony  Dale  nothing 
had  been  seen  or  heard  of  its  author.  It  was  sup- 
posed that  King  was  in  New  York,  but  no  word 
of  any  sort  came  from  him. 

May  was  quite  willing  that  his  absence  be  con- 
tinued. The  thought  of  her  defeat  was  almost 
intolerable  to  her,  and  she  would  have  wished  to 
be  able  to  forget  her  over  liking  for  him  as  speedily 
as  might  be.  She  was  angry  with  herself  for 
having  allowed  him  to  come  into  her  life  so  dan- 
gerously far,  and  she  was  sincerely  and  bitterly 
trying  to  force  him  from  the  outverge  of  her  mem- 
ories. There  was  no  resentment  in  her  heart 
toward  any  one  except  toward  herself,  and  that  was 
for  her  own  folly  and  presumption.  With  Eleanor 
she  maintained  an  attitude  of  armed  neutrality  with- 


THE   LODESTAR  283 

out  giving  her  any  reason  to  suspect  that  their  rela- 
tions had  in  any  way  changed.  But  when  she 
next  met  Eleanor,  her  curiosity  led  her  into  the 
very  subject  which  the  other  girl  would  have  been 
reluctant  to  take  up. 

"Have  you  read  Mr.  King's  new  story?"  she 
asked. 

Her  friend  looked  slightly  conscious. 

"Harmony  Dale?  Yes.  It's  very  pretty,  isn't 
it?" 

"  Very  —  as  much  of  it  as  I  read,"  May  replied. 
She  hesitated  to  acknowledge  that  she  had  read  it 
twice  over,  jealously  catching  up  the  development 
of  the  heroine  in  a  self-scourging  effort  to  perceive 
an  idealized  Eleanor  through  the  writer's  inspira- 
tion. 

"  What  did  you  think  of  the  dedication  ? "  she 
inquired. 

The  other  girl  was  forced  to  meet  the  advance. 
She  laughed  a  little  forcedly. 

'"ToE.  H.'?     I  don't  know." 

"  Why,  you're  E.  H.,  aren't  you  ? "  May  said 
quickly. 

"Why,  really  I  don't  know  that  either,"  her 
friend  replied.  "  E.  H.  are  very  common  initials," 
she  casually  added. 

"  Didn't  he  tell  you  he  was  going  to  do  it  — 


284  THE   LODESTAR 

going  to  dedicate  it  to  you  ? "  Miss  Brinton  per- 
sisted with  heightened  interest. 

Eleanor  shook  her  head. 

"If  I  am  E.  H.,  he  didn't  tell  E.  H.,"  she  an- 
swered  with  a  smile.  "And  I  haven't  seen  him 
or  heard  from  him  since  the  book  came  out,"  she 
volunteered. 

"Is  that  so?"  responded  her  friend,  with 
surprise. 

The  New  England  girl  laughed  again,  and  this 
time  more  frankly. 

"To  tell  the  truth,  May,  I'm  rather  curious 
about  it.  I'd  like  to  know.  If  Mr.  King  really 
meant  to  dedicate  it  to  me,  it's  —  well,  it's  very 
flattering  —  don't  you  think  ?  —  and  I  should  like 
to  thank  him.  Although  I  suppose  if  he  had 
meant  me,  he  would  have  said  so,"  she  finished. 

"Yes.  I  should  have  thought  he  would," 
Miss  Brinton  said  slowly.  "  But  you're  sure  to 
find  out  sooner  or  later,  of  course,"  she  added. 

"Oh,  not  necessarily,"  her  friend  answered 
quickly.  "I  shan't  ask  him,"  she  said,  smiling. 

"  I  think  he'll  probably  tell  you,"  was  in  the 
other  girl's  thought,  although  she  was  silent. 

That  evening  the  Brinton  party  was  augmented 
by  the  arrival  of  Charlotte  Worthington  and  of 
Oliver  Burgess,  who  had  inadvertently  taken  the 


THE   LODESTAR  285 

same  train  and  been  forced  to  entertain  her  during 
the  entire  trip.  Charlotte  apparently  considered 
that  the  fact  of  her  having  had  the  mumps  on  a 
previous  visit  to  the  Brintons  put  the  Brinton 
family  under  distinct  obligations  to  receive  her 
again  into  their  home.  She  entirely  lost  sight  of 
the  fact  that  she  had  caused  her  hosts  a  great  deal 
of  trouble,  and  she  seemed  to  take  the  view  that 
they  had  in  some  way  been  responsible  for  the 
malady  she  had  contracted  ;  and  she  illogically 
concluded  that  it  was  their  duty  to  atone  for  their 
previous  erratum  by  exerting  themselves  to  the 
utmost  so  that  her  second  stay  might  be  made 
more  pleasant  for  her.  And  the  Brintons,  be- 
cause they  were  easy-going  and  good-natured 
people  whom  generous  entertaining  did  not  incon- 
venience at  all,  tolerated  this  groundless  and 
astonishing  conclusion  of  Charlotte's  with  equa- 
nimity, although  they  left  her  mainly  to  her  own 
devices.  As  for  Burgess,  he  had  found  town 
tiresome  and  was  glad  of  an  excuse  to  get  away, 
as  he  explained  at  dinner. 

"  Of  course  for  a  busy  man  New  York's  a  good 
little  village  in  August,"  he  said.  "  But,  then,  I'm 
not  a  busy  man.  You  see  although  it's  pretty  hot 
sometimes,  if  you  work  hard  enough,  you  don't 
notice  the  heat,  and  by  the  time  of  day  you  stop 


286  THE   LODESTAR 

working  and  notice  it,  it  begins  to  cool  off.  Then 
it's  nice  and  informal  and  not  crowded,  with 
matting  on  the  floors  and  all  the  men  sitting 
around  the  clubs  in  their  shirt  sleeves ;  and  you 
see  a  lot  of  chaps  you  like,  who  in  the  winter  are 
tied  up  to  one  set  of  social  connections  while  you 
are  tied  up  to  an  entirely  different  one,  but  in 
August  both  your  sets  are  away  and  you  have  a 
chance  to  get  together.  And  there's  lots  to  do  — 
there  are  dozens  of  conceits  and  roof  gardens  and 
horse-races  and  ball  games,  and  the  kind  of  joints 
that  are  full  of  electric  lights  and  frankfurter 
sausages  and  water  chutes ;  and  you  dine  around 
at  queer  places  and  get  your  breakfast  at  a  table 
out  on  the  sidewalk,  and  perhaps  some  chap  takes 
you  up  the  Sound  on  his  yacht  over  the  week  end, 
or  some  one  asks  you  up  in  the  country  —  like 
this.  Yes,  New  York's  a  good  little  town,  but  I 
was  pretty  tired  of  it,  and  I  was  glad  to  get  the 
chance  to  slide  out  for  a  few  days." 

"  Is  any  one  we  know  in  town  ?  "  May  asked. 

"  Oh,  occasionally  some  girl  you  know  is  going 
through.  There  are  plenty  of  men ;  I  saw  Bill 
Risley  and  Nat  Collins  and  Eliot  Frame  this 
morning." 

"  How  did  Eliot  look  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Brinton, 
meaningly. 


THE   LODESTAR  287 

"He  looked  very  well,"  Burgess  answered, 
"  He  seemed  to  be  really  working  —  and  he  hasn't 
taken  a  drink  since  his  engagement  was  an- 
nounced—  so  far  as  any  one  knows." 

"  I  don't  believe  in  marrying  a  man  just  to 
reform  him,"  Charlotte  Worthington  announced. 
She  was  chronically  irritated  at  every  engaged  girl 
over  her  good  fortune ;  she  begrudged  her  sop  of 
ephemeral  happiness  to  the  most  pitiful  fiancee. 

"Would  you  rather  have  the  man  marry  you  to 
demoralize  you  ?  "  Burgess  inquired. 

"Charlotte  doesn't  believe  in  marrying  under 
any  conditions,  it  would  seem,"  was  the  somewhat 
caustic  comment  of  the  capitalist,  as  he  winked 
at  Stuffy  Smith. 

"  Or  perhaps  Miss  Worthington  considers  that 
all  men  are  in  need  of  reformation,  and  that  makes 
her  so  reluctant,"  put  in  Burgess  again,  revenging 
himself  for  what  she  had  caused  him  to  undergo 
on  the  train. 

"  I  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if  Eliot  turned 
out  very  well.  I  believe  he's  got  it  in  him,"  May 
remarked. 

"  I  hope  he  does.  Pauline  is  a  very  good,  sweet 
girl,"  Mr.  Brinton  said  with  quite  uncommon 
gravity. 

"  So  is  Alice,"  remarked  Miss  Worthington,  with 


288  THE  LODESTAR 

a  meaning  glance  at  Stuffy,  who  studied  the  floor 
with  extraordinary  attentiveness. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  the  commander  hastened  to  concede. 

"When  are  they  to  be  married?"  Miss  Wylie 
asked. 

"  In  the  fall,  I  think,"  answered  May. 

"By  the  way,  it's  hard  luck  about  Ham,  isn't 
it  ?  "  Burgess  remarked. 

"  About  Mr.  King  ?  What  ? "  inquired  Charlotte, 
anticipating  the  inquiry  of  the  others. 

"  Why,  hadn't  you  heard  ?  He's  got  typhoid," 
replied  Burgess. 

"  No !     Is  that  so  ? "  said  the  capitalist 

"  Is  it  a  severe  case  ? "  Miss  Wylie  inquired,  and 
May  hung  hungrily  for  the  answer,  stifling  her 
eagerness  to  learn. 

"  I  don't  know.  The  fever  started  pretty  high, 
but  it's  too  early  to  tell,"  the  novelist's  friend 
responded. 

"  Well,  that's  too  bad,"  said  Mr.  Brinton.  "  Ham 
King's  a  good  fellow  —  a  first-rate  fellow.  I  always 
liked  him.  I  hope  he  pulls  through  all  right." 

There  was  a  sympathetic  murmur  of  assent  from 
the  remainder  of  the  table,  especially  from  Char- 
lotte Worthington,  who  looked  on  death  with  a 
particularly  shuddering  soul. 

When  May  Brinton  had  suggested  to  her  father 


THE   LODESTAR  289 

the  propriety  of  his  marrying  again,  she  had  sown 
a  seed  in  fertile  ground.  As  a  matter  of  fact  the 
character  of  the  capitalist  made  him  fertile  ground 
for  the  reception  of  almost  any  sort  of  seed ;  he 
had  an  enormous  plastic  balance  of  activity  and 
energy  which  he  held  free  to  invest,  and  any 
proposition  which  promised  a  fair  return  for 
the  commensurate  expenditure  of  those  qualities 
of  which  he  possessed  a  surplus  was  sure  of  care- 
ful consideration.  He  welcomed  every  equitable 
opportunity  to  extract  action  from  the  unspent 
power  he  held,  and  it  came  into  his  thought  that 
May's  suggestion  was  not  by  any  means  a  bad 
one.  He  had  cared  for  May's  mother  with  the 
average  affection  which  a  young  man  directs 
toward  his  first  wife,  and  now  it  was  improbable 
that  he  could  expend  an  equal  affection  upon  any 
other  woman,  for  that  one  had  been  his  choice  in 
the  fresh,  first  ardor  of  his  youth.  Since  her 
death  his  property  interests  had  expanded  so 
weightily  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  brush 
them  aside  upon  the  entrance  of  any  one  other 
person  into  his  life,  but  —  the  thought  was  rather 
a  pleasant  one.  What  did  those  interests  mean, 
anyway,  those  interests  for  which  she  might  sub- 
stitute? They  dealt  almost  wholly  with  purchas- 
able things  —  and  he  was  very,  very  tired  of  things 


2QO  THE   LODESTAR 

which  he  could  buy.  Certainly  he  could  not  buy 
Eleanor  Hyde;  whether  she  could  be  taken  by 
any  other  means  was  doubtful,  and  the  very  doubt 
flavored  a  tentative  pursuit  with  an  agreeable  zest. 
Clearly  a  second  leap  into  matrimony  would  fur- 
nish him  a  new  diversion  for  a  while ;  it  might  be 
a  permanent  good.  As  May  had  pointed  out,  she 
would  some  day  leave  him;  Miss  Wylie  was  un- 
companionable ;  and  he  was  a  little  apprehensive 
of  an  old  age  which  might  be  rather  lonely  except 
for  those  things  which  his  great  fortune  could 
secure  to  him. 

Mr.  Brinton  took  occasion  to  bring  up  the  sub- 
ject upon  the  evening  when  the  illness  of  King 
became  known  to  the  household  in  Burnham. 
This  ran  against  the  wish  of  his  daughter.  May 
at  her  worst  was  cold-blooded  and  speculatively 
selfish,  and  she  was  now  at  her  very  worst.  Be- 
fore she  took  a  second  step  to  speed  her  father 
toward  the  goal  she  had  selected  for  him  to 
achieve,  she  wished  to  ascertain  whether  or  not 
King  was  likely  to  die,  because  if  he  should  die, 
she  would  have  sacrificed  her  father  in  her  inter- 
ests and  gained  nothing  for  her  sacrifice.  It  was 
her  part  to  play  cautiously  while  matters  were 
thus  unsettled.  But  the  dominating  spirit  was  a 
difficult  person  to  withhold  against  his  careering 


THE   LODESTAR  291 

inclinations.  His  ways  were  the  ways  of  no  one 
else,  and  when  he  chose  to  set  out  upon  a  pursuit 
no  human  restraint  or  influence  was  of  much  avail 
to  check  him  or  to  turn  him  down  a  by-road. 

And  May's  words  had  caused  him  to  observe 
Eleanor  from  a  new  viewpoint.  He  had  always 
admired  her  for  her  prettiness  and  grace  and 
charm,  ever  since  the  first  day  when  he  and  King 
and  Burgess  had  driven  together  to  the  Hyde 
farm.  But  that  had  been  the  admiration  of  a  by- 
stander, indirect,  superficial,  uncompelling ;  now 
the  urge  was  creeping  stealthily  over  him  to  have 
the  girl  for  his  own ;  he  felt  an  odd  f orethrill  of  a 
bygone  desire  that  was  come  again,  —  a  desire  to 
exercise  proprietary  rights  over  those  wonderful 
brown  eyes,  which  he  had  seen  sometimes  light 
and  bright  in  the  sun  and  sometimes  holding  well- 
deep  darkness  as  the  girl's  mood  went  gloomily 
minor  and  her  thoughts  from  gay  to  grave.  Love ! 
Could  the  old  passion,  years  laid  by,  stir  him  again  ? 
Mr.  Brinton  commenced  to  hesitate,  verging  toward 
an  affirmative  reply. 

"So  you  want  to  get  rid  of  your  father,  do 
you  ? "  he  posed,  when  he  and  May  were  alone. 

The  swingback  of  sentiment  came,  and  his 
daughter  protested. 

"  Oh,  no  !     Never ! " 


292  THE   LODESTAR 

The  capitalist  disregarded  her  denial. 

"  I've  almost  come  around  to  the  conclusion  that 
you're  right,"  he  said  more  thoughtfully  than  usual. 

"I  very  seldom  am,"  the  girl  replied,  with  an 
unnatural  and  unconvincing  self-depreciation. 

"  You  see  I'm  a  little  afraid  of  being  lonely  in 
my  old  age,"  said  her  father,  with  a  seriousness 
that  was  simply  astounding  to  his  daughter,  "  and 
perhaps  you've  hit  on  a  way  out  of  it.  I  can't  keep 
my  speed  up  forever,  and  when  I  get  ready  to  sit 
down  I  don't  want  to  occupy  an  empty  bench,  you 
understand.  Of  course  I'll  probably  always  have 
a  lot  of  money,  and  you're  never  literally  lonely 
when  you've  got  money,  for  there  are  always  a 
lot  of  sociable  leeches  hanging  on  and  trying  to 
get  it  away  from  you,  —  relatives  and  college  presi- 
dents and  specialists  and  lawyers  and  fellows  like 
that,  —  but  that's  not  the  crowd  for  me.  I'd  like 
something  more  in  the  line  of  company  than  I  can 
get  by  signing  a  check  for.  I'm  beginning  to  think 
pretty  well,  generally  speaking,  of  your  idea  for 
me  to  marry  again." 

May  was  sincerely  disturbed  by  this  announce- 
ment She  never  had  meant  to  raise  the  general 
question;  her  proposal  had  been  actuated  solely 
by  the  desire  of  getting  Eleanor  out  of  her  way, 
and  now  she  was  by  no  means  certain  whether 


THE   LODESTAR  293 

she  wished  this  to  befall.  If  Hamilton  King  were 
to  die, — she  caught  her  breath  sharply,  —  she  might 
far  better  keep  her  father  to  herself;  certainly  to 
have  the  plutocrat  ranging  the  whole  field  with  the 
certainty  of  eventual  capture  and  the  distressing 
likelihood  that  he  would  take  into  his  life  some 
one  bristlingly  objectionable  to  May  —  it  was  not 
to  be  tolerated.  If  it  came  to  the  actual  perform- 
ance of  his  conclusion,  his  choice  must  surely  fall 
on  Eleanor. 

"I  —  I  didn't  quite  mean  that,"  she  said  in  per- 
plexity. "  You  see  I  wasn't  thinking  of  any  one 
except  Eleanor." 

"  Not  of  me  ? "  inquired  her  father,  in  some 
wonderment. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  May  brushed  this  misunder- 
standing lightly  aside.  "I  mean  for  you  to 
marry  any  one  else." 

"You  think  Miss  Hyde's  as  desirable  as  all 
that  ?  "  asked  the  plutocrat. 

"Well,  you  know  her  —  you  know  what  she  is." 

"Yes;  I  guess  so,"  Mr.  Brinton  conceded. 
"Say,"  he  said  bluntly,  leaning  forward  a  little, 
"do  you  suppose  she'd  marry  me,  anyway?" 

His  daughter  was  in  a  dilemma.  She  did  not 
wish  to  answer  in  the  negative  and  precipitate 
her  father's  advance  in  a  more  undesirable  direc- 


294  THE   LODESTAR 

tion,  but  if  she  replied  yes  to  his  question,  he  would 
most  likely  rush  over  and  violently  propose  to 
Eleanor  the  very  next  day;  and  May  wished  to 
avert  this.  If  Eleanor  really  cared  for  King,  she 
would  surely  reject  Mr.  Brinton,  who  would  have 
been  needlessly  humiliated  to  no  benefit  toward 
any  one.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  she  did  not  care 
for  King,  the  temptation  to  accept  what  the 
capitalist  could  give  her  might  be  too  strong  to 
withstand;  and  then  if  King  should  not  recover, 
May  would  have  lost  on  both  sides.  Against  this 
was  the  single  chance  (so  it  seemed  to  her)  that 
Eleanor,  heart-free  to  choose,  might  take  the  pluto- 
crat and  that  King  would  recover.  But  even  then 
there  was  no  certainty  that  if  the  novelist  should 
live  and  find  Eleanor  married,  he  would  next  to 
her  choose  May.  King  was  not  a  man  to  be  swayed 
by  the  gleam  of  a  glance  or  overtoppled  by  a  curv- 
ing smile ;  he  thoroughly  understood  the  value  of 
charm,  as  one  who  made  his  living  by  manufac- 
turing it  on  a  printed  page,  and  Miss  Brinton  hesi- 
tated before  submitting  to  the  calculation  of  her 
attractions  by  one  so  skilled  in  their  estimate.  No, 
the  combination  of  risks  was  too  great. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered. 

"Say,  would  you  ask  her  —  if  you  were  me?" 
persisted  the  capitalist 


THE   LODESTAR  295 

It  struck  the  girl  that  it  was  somewhat  curious 
for  a  father  to  go  to  his  daughter  for  advice 
upon  the  conduct  of  a  love-affair,  but  she  reflected 
that  she  had  herself  with  equal  unconvention- 
ality  advised  him  to  set  out  upon  this  identical 
quest. 

"  Gracious  !  I  don't  know.  Certainly  not  right 
away.  She  hasn't  a  glimmer  of  what  you  mean. 
Let  the  girl  get  used  to  the  idea  before  you  say 
anything  definite  to  her,"  replied  the  cautious  Miss 
Brinton. 

And  so  while  King  lay  burning  up  with  a  fever, 
the  middle-aged  millionnaire  began  his  courtship 
of  the  New  England  girl,  a  courtship  which  was 
instantly  perceived  by  the  eager  Charlotte  Worth- 
ington. 

"Where's  Mr.  Brinton?"  asked  Stuffy  Smith, 
one  day  shortly  afterward. 

"  Can't  you  guess  ? "  Charlotte  answered  with  a 
knowing  smile. 

"No,"  replied  the  chunky  youth,  with  blunt, 
blank  sincerity. 

"  You're  pretty  slow,"  said  his  companion, 
tantalizingly. 

No  one  realized  this  more  fully  than  the  yellow- 
haired  young  man. 

"  Yes,"  he  admitted.     "  I  guess  I  am.     But  do 


296  THE  LODESTAR 

you  know  where  he  is  ? "  he  persisted,  chancing  to 
be  desirous  of  knowing. 

"Where  is  Eleanor  Hyde?"  said  Charlotte, 
enigmatically. 

"I  don't  know,  Miss  Worthington,"  Smith 
responded.  "  I  suppose  she's  home,"  he  hazarded. 

"Well,  then,  that's  where  you'll  probably  find 
Mr.  Brinton,"  his  companion  announced. 

"  Home  ?  Whose  home  ?  Really !  Why,  what 
do  you  mean  ? "  Stuffy  asked,  as  the  light  began 
faintly  to  break  over  him. 

"  Can't  you  see  ? "  said  Miss  Worthington. 
"As  soon  as  Mr.  Brinton  hears  that  Hamilton 
King  has  typhoid,  he  rushes  in  and  tries  to  cut 
him  out  with  Miss  Hyde.  Haven't  you  noticed 
it?" 

"Well,  now  that  you  mention  it,  perhaps  I 
have  —  a  little,"  Smith  admitted. 

Eleanor  Hyde  noticed  it,  too,  and  she  was  not 
a  little  puzzled.  Evidently  there  had  come  some 
influence  which  had  suddenly  quickened  the  tempo 
of  Mr.  Brinton's  attentions  to  her,  but  she  was  at  a 
loss  how  to  construe  the  favors  which  he  was  newly 
showering  on  her.  And  awkwardly  enough  for 
her,  they  were  favors  which  she  could  think  of  no 
cogent  reason  for  declining.  The  plutocrat  was  a 
domineering  donor;  at  the  slightest  protest  his 


THE   LODESTAR  297 

offence  took  the  form  of  redoubling  his  offerings 
until  the  protester  was  fairly  smothered  under  the 
very  weight  of  the  gifts  she  had  attempted  to 
decline. 

And  Eleanor  could  no  more  escape  his  society 
than  his  favors.  He  came  frequently  to  the  farm, 
and  he  often  carried  her  off  to  whatever  chanced 
to  be  the  diversion  of  the  hour.  And  all  his  atten- 
tions were  marked  by  an  adherence  to  lines  of 
strictest  decorum  and  propriety ;  Miss  Wylie  was 
constantly  in  evidence,  and  May  herself  helplessly 
watched  her  father's  energetic  pursuit  of  her  school 
friend  with  a  sort  of  dumb  amazement  at  the  very 
efficiency  of  the  machine  she  had  set  in  motion. 

Mr.  Brinton  was  no  time-server  nor  was  he  a 
believer  in  halfway  measures.  He  brought  up  his 
heaviest  batteries  and  thundered  at  Eleanor's 
battlements  with  a  reverberation  that  shook  the 
countryside.  The  capitalist  was  no  advocate  of  a 
campaign  which  began  by  the  building  of  a  willow 
cabin  at  the  lady's  gate ;  he  unlimbered  his  largest 
guns  and  let  fly  a  continual  cannonade  of  convinc- 
ing missiles.  His  tactics  and  motives  were  as  little 
understood  by  most  of  the  interested  onlookers  as 
by  the  girl  herself.  Few  took  them  in  the  light 
of  serious  courtship.  Some  people  advanced  this 
theory,  which  gained  many  followers  —  that  during 


298  THE   LODESTAR 

the  serious  illness  of  Hamilton  King  (who  was 
popularly  supposed  to  be  in  love  with  Eleanor) 
his  friend,  Mr.  Brinton,  was  kindly  attempting  to 
divert  the  girl's  thoughts  and  lighten  her  anxieties 
by  leading  her  down  a  particularly  primrose  path 
of  relentless  gayety ;  and  that  behind  the  whole 
campaign  of  material  pleasure  there  were  two 
rather  sad  spirits,  —  those  of  the  girl  whose  lover 
lay  ill  and  of  the  man  who  was  generously  trying 
to  turn  her  fears  away. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  this  was  partly  true  —  not  in 
respect  to  the  motives  of  the  capitalist,  but  in  the 
way  in  which  Eleanor  accepted  the  situation. 
She  knew  of  the  dangerous  sickness  of  King,  and 
her  very  heart  was  torn  at  his  trouble  and  distress  ; 
but  she  had  no  given  right  to  show  her  feelings 
to  the  world,  and  so  she  welcomed  the  diversions, 
which  the  unfathomable  plutocrat  provided  for 
every  idle  minute,  as  some  measure  of  relief  to 
her  secret  anxiety.  With  the  throng  she  laughed, 
but  alone  on  the  farm  —  alone  with  the  trees  and 
the  stars  and  the  meadow  grass  and  the  quiet 
night  —  her  brown  eyes  often  deepened  as  her 
thoughts  went  away  to  where  a  man  lay  fighting 
very  hard  for  life  —  and  for  certain  things  which 
life  meant  to  him. 

And  yet  no  climax  came  to  the  attack  of  the 


THE   LODESTAR  299 

dominating  spirit.  This  was  due  not  to  any  slug- 
gishness on  his  part,  but  to  a  curiously  discrimi- 
nating spirit  of  justice.  He  considered  it  entirely 
fair  to  take  advantage  of  King's  absence  and 
in  that  time  to  carry  on  his  campaign ;  but  the 
uncertainty  of  the  man's  survival  was  quite  another 
matter.  In  the  very  beginning  he  had  asked  May 
whether  she  thought  Eleanor  was  in  love  with 
King,  and  May  had  answered  in  a  very  decided 
negative.  Mr.  Brinton  had  taken  her  judgment 
with  considerable  relief,  because  he  himself  was 
convinced  that  Miss  Hyde  was  certainly  not 
wholly  indifferent  to  the  young  novelist.  And  it 
was  to  satisfy  this  conviction  that  he  was  waiting. 
King's  death  would  be  a  definite  settlement  to  the 
whole  affair,  and  Mr.  Brinton  would  instantly  have 
moved  on  Eleanor,  for  he  was  quite  unable  to  con- 
ceive of  any  high  fidelity  to  a  mere  memory.  But 
just  at  present  it  was  more  mixed ;  he  did  not  wish 
to  be  rejected  upon  the  belief  that  King  would 
recover,  and  certainly  it  would  be  most  embarrass- 
ing to  be  accepted  as  the  heir  of  a  man  who  might 
disappoint  mutual  expectations  by  surviving  and 
challenging  for  the  inheritance.  So  Mr.  Brinton 
waited. 

Meanwhile  Hamilton  King  was  lying  very  close 
to  the  border  line. 


XIV 

AFTER  dinner  —  it  was  on  an  evening  in  late  Sep- 
tember—  the  furniture  was  swiftly  and  skilfully 
moved  out  of  the  drawing-room  and  the  library 
and  the  hall  of  the  Brinton  house.  A  man  went 
about  carrying  a  box  of  powdered  wax,  which  he 
sifted  sparingly  over  the  already  highly  polished 
hardwood  floors.  The  dinner  dishes  were  rapidly 
taken  away,  and  upon  the  dining-room  table  were 
placed  three  huge  cut-glass  punch-bowls.  Ser- 
vants brought  potted  plants  to  fashion  effective 
nooks,  and  festooned  greens  about  the  fireplaces 
and  doorways  and  chandeliers.  There  was  no 
excess  of  noise,  no  confusion ;  the  preparations 
were  being  made  by  men  who  thoroughly  under- 
stood their  work. 

Upstairs,  the  ladies  of  the  Brinton  household 
were  dressing  for  the  dance  —  Miss  Wylie  and 
May  and  the  two  Rawlins  girls,  and  the  men  of 
the  party  —  Mr.  Brinton  and  Burgess  and  Eliot 
Frame  —  were  taking  their  coffee  and  cigars  in 
the  billiard  room.  Mr.  Brinton  had  determined  to 

300 


THE   LODESTAR  301 

signalize  his  departure  from  the  village  by  giving 
a  dance,  to  which  he  had  bidden  the  most  of  his 
friends,  both  young  and  old. 

"There's  nothing  like  a  dance,"  said  the  epi- 
grammatic capitalist,  "to  get  every  one  together. 
It  makes  the  old  feel  young  and  the  young 
old." 

"  Is  Mrs.  Squires  coming  ? "  Eliot  Frame  asked. 

"  Mrs.  Al  Squires  ?  You  bet  ghe  is,"  the  domi- 
nating spirit  replied.  "I  asked  her  to  receive  — 
I  insisted  on  it  —  and  I  didn't  have  to  insist  very 
hard  or  very  long." 

"Mrs.  Al  will  make  a  magnificent  figure  in  a 
waltz,"  Burgess  commented,  thinking  of  the 
enormous  proportions  of  the  lady  in  question. 

"  She  said  she  was  afraid  she  was  getting  too 
old  to  dance,"  Mr.  Brinton  explained  with  perfect 
gravity,  "and  I  told  her  I  didn't  think  so,  but 
anyway  she  could  sit  out  in  a  hammock  on  the 
piazza  and  watch  the  younger  people." 

"  Sit  in  a  hammock  —  Mrs.  Al  ?  I'd  like  to  see 
any  hammock  that  would  hold  her,"  said  Frame, 
with  an  incredulous  laugh. 

"  You'd  have  to  get  up  a  hammock  made  of 
metal  mesh  —  a  sort  of  modern  chain-mail  effect 
and  swung  by  real  cables,"  Burgess  suggested. 

In  a   corner  of   the  hall   under   the  stairs  the 


302  THE   LODESTAR 

men  in  charge  of  the  arrangements  were  making 
a  place  for  the  musicians  to  sit.  They  rolled  the 
big  piano  out  from  the  drawing-room,  and  against 
it  they  stood  a  row  of  potted  palms.  On  it  they 
placed  growing  plants  and  twined  vines  and  cut 
flowers.  In  the  kitchen  Mr.  Brinton's  servants 
took  for  the  moment  their  orders  from  the  New 
York  chef,  who  had  brought  a  corps  of  assistants 
and  waiters  and  a  load  of  materials  for  providing 
an  elaborate  supper.  The  chef  was  attending  in 
person  to  the  construction  of  a  punch,  which  the 
commander  had  directed  should  be  subtle  yet 
stunning.  In  order  to  evade  as  far  as  possible 
all  responsibility  for  any  lamentable  effects  that 
this  beverage  might  have  upon  susceptible  natives, 
Mr.  Brinton  had  especially  ordered  that  it  be 
colored  bright  red.  The  other  bowls  were  de- 
signed to  contain  innocent  yellow  lemonade  and 
brown  cafe"  frapp6,  and  the  capitalist  had  ad- 
vanced the  opinion  that  any  one  who  chose  to 
pass  such  an  obvious  danger-signal  and  tempt 
fortune  by  attacking  a  liquor  of  such  a  sinister 
and  suspicious  hue  deserved  the  discredit  of  a 
tactless  public  inebriation. 

"  Besides,  I  want  to  give  every  one  a  good  time," 
said  the  dominating  spirit,  "and  you  know  there 
are  always  a  few  people  who  don't  really  get 


THE   LODESTAR  303 

warmed  up  to  a  dance  and  enjoy  themselves 
unless  they  get  just  a  bit  of  an  edge  on." 

The  chef  was  pouring  the  contents  of  many 
suggestive-looking  bottles  and  demijohns  into  a 
great  tin  can,  his  very  soul  intent  upon  the  art  of 
his  occupation. 

There  came  the  sound  of  whirring  machinery 
and  of  crunching  gravel,  and  a  streak  of  light 
flashed  into  the  open  windows  of  the  billiard  room 
as  a  touring-car  shot  up  to  the  piazza.  Mr.  Brin- 
ton  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Well,  good-by.  I'll  be  back  in  about  twenty 
minutes." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ? "  Burgess  asked. 

"  Over  to  get  the  Hyde  girls,"  replied  the  com- 
mander. He  put  on  a  cap,  a  butler  assisted  him 
into  a  tan  overcoat,  and  he  stepped  out  on  to  the 
porch.  Eliot  Frame  started  to  say  something, 
and  suddenly  checked  himself ;  Eliot  had  changed 
considerably  since  he  had  become  engaged  to 
Pauline  Rawlins. 

May  Brinton  came  downstairs,  slowly  pulling 
her  long  white  gloves  up  her  arms.  She  was 
dressed  in  silver  gray,  which  set  off  to  advantage 
her  dark  hair  and  eyes,  and  over  her  shoulders 
was  thrown  a  filmy  gray  silk  scarf.  Burgess  and 
Frame  rose  as  they  saw  her  through  the  doorway. 


304  THE  LODESTAR 

"  Don't  get  up,  please,"  the  girl  said.  "  May 
I  come  in  ?  I'm  awfully  early,  but  they  wanted 
my  room  for  a  cloak  room,  and  no  one  can  tell, 
anyway,  what  time  the  guests  will  begin  to  arrive ; 
papa  asked  some  Burnham  people  to  dine  with 
us  informally  one  day  the  first  week  we  were 
here,  and  they  all  came  at  exactly  noon."  She 
sat  down  in  an  arm-chair. 

Out  in  the  library  the  man  with  the  box  of  pow- 
dered wax  continued  to  sift  it  over  the  floor.  The 
chef  had  completed  the  manufacture  of  the  sin- 
ister-hued  beverage,  and  was  calculating  rapidly 
upon  the  disposition  of  the  lettuce  sandwiches. 
The  bland,  clear-voiced  individual  in  knee-breeches, 
to  whom  had  been  detailed  the  duty  of  directing 
the  arriving  Burnhamites  where  to  remove  their 
wraps,  took  his  station  at  the  front  door.  The 
maids  and  attendants  were  ready  in  the  dressing 
rooms.  The  musicians  had  just  been  driven  up 
in  an  omnibus  and  were  taking  off  their  coats 
and  uncasing  their  instruments  and  setting  up 
their  portable  stands.  The  genial  little  cornet 
player  looked  through  into  the  dining  room,  where 
stood  the  three  huge  punch-bowls  freighted  with 
soothing  fluids;  he  called  the  attention  of  the 
cellist  to  the  sight,  winking  and  smacking  his  lips 
noisily,  while  the  large,  dignified  waiter  on  guard 


THE   LODESTAR  305 

relaxed  into  a  grave  smile.  The  leader  of  the 
orchestra  was  busy  sorting  out  the  music  which 
his  men  were  to  play.  Miss  Wylie,  the  colorless 
chaperon,  appeared  in  the  hall,  dressed  in  black 
with  a  great  many  shining  spangles  which  kept 
falling  off  during  the  evening;  presently  Alice 
Rawlins  descended  the  stairway,  shortly  followed 
by  her  sister. 

Soon  the  Burnhamites  began  to  arrive.  Time 
and  close  inspection  had  overcome  their  first  awe 
of  Mr.  Brinton,  but  they  still  retained  a  very  lively 
interest  in  the  man  who  had  playfully  remarked 
that  he  liked  their  town  a  good  deal,  and  that  if 
his  liking  for  it  increased  much  further,  he  might 
be  tempted  to  buy  it  and  really  make  something 
out  of  it.  This  sounded  like  a  joke,  but  in  view 
of  Mr.  Brinton's  reputed  ability  to  carry  out  the 
suggestion,  they  were  unable  to  subject  their  joint 
sense  of  humor  to  a  satisfactory  analysis  of  his 
real  meaning.  However,  they  accepted  his  invita- 
tions with  avidity  and  in  much  the  same  way  that 
they  would  have  snapped  up  free  tickets  to  a  cir- 
cus ;  and  to  tell  the  truth,  the  circus  element  was 
never  wholly  lacking  in  anything  which  the  capi- 
talist planned  and  gave ;  the  dominating  spirit 
himself  always  conveyed  more  or  less  the  impres- 
sion of  a  sort  of  tall-hatted  ring-master,  snapping 
x 


306  THE   LODESTAR 

the  long  whip  of  his  resources  over  his  liberally 
imbursed  performers. 

The  guests  came  slowly  at  first,  trickling  in,  one 
or  two  at  a  time,  and  then  with  a  rush,  streaming 
up  the  stairway  and  flooding  the  cloak  rooms. 
Most  of  the  village  youths  and  maidens  came  on 
foot,  but  there  were  numbers  who  arrived  in 
buggies  and  buckboards  and  even  carryalls,  tying 
their  horses  to  a  long  fence  across  the  street, 
where  under  their  cooling-blankets  the  nags  stood 
restlessly  stamping  in  the  evening  air.  The  Brinton 
house  was  ablaze  with  lights,  the  commander  hav- 
ing run  additional  rows  of  incandescents  along  the 
piazzas  and  illuminated  the  grounds  with  numbers 
of  electric  bulbs  of  all  colors.  The  sound  of  talk- 
ing and  laughter  and  instruments  being  set  in  tune 
came  out  on  the  night. 

With  a  rush  and  a  slash  of  wheels  across  the 
gravel  curve,  the  big  touring-car  returned  from  its 
trip  to  the  Hyde  farm,  and  Mr.  Brinton  leaped 
nimbly  out,  assisting  the  Hyde  girls  to  alight.  He 
hurried  into  the  drawing-room,  where  Miss  Wylie 
and  Mrs.  Al  Squires  and  May  were  receiving  their 
guests.  The  city  ladies  recollected  having  met 
scarcely  any  of  them,  but  Mrs.  Squires  lessened 
their  embarrassments  considerably  by  taking  each 
newcomer  heartily  by  the  hand  and  volubly  assert- 


THE   LODESTAR  307 

ing  to  Miss  Wylie  that  she  surely  must  remember 
so-and-so  —  to  which  Miss  Wylie  always  gladly 
assented.  Mr.  Brinton  upon  his  arrival  instantly 
became  everywhere,  going  from  group  to  group 
with  genial  word  and  appropriate  jest. 

The  music  struck  up  into  a  slow,  sweeping  waltz, 
and  dancing  commenced.  The  saltatory  exercises 
proper  were  taken  by  the  local  young  men  with 
tremendous  gravity.  They  secured  their  partners 
and  began  revolving  seriously  down  the  long  rooms. 
Mrs.  Al  Squires  judiciously  retired  to  the  dining 
room,  refreshing  herself  with  a  glass  of  lemonade 
and  waving  aside  the  crimson  fluid  which  a  solici- 
tous waiter  dipped  out  of  the  centre  bowl  and  pre- 
sented to  her.  The  commander  was  seen  to  be 
walking  on  the  piazza  and  talking  [animatedly  with 
the  wife  of  Ben  Corwin,  the  druggist.  Miss  Wylie 
was  shedding  her  spangles  under  the  escort  of 
no  less  a  dignitary  than  the  postmaster.  Frame 
and  Pauline  Rawlins  danced  once  around  and 
then  went  out  into  the  quiet  garden.  Frame 
laughed  rather  softly  as  he  drew  her  arm  through 
his. 

.- 

"  Somehow  I  don't  care  so  much  for  that  sort  of 
thing  as  I  used  to,"  he  said,  nodding  toward  the 
house,  gay  with  lights  and  voices  and  rhythmic 
music  that  broke  the  garden  stillness. 


308  THE  LODESTAR 

The  girl  smiled  a  little. 

"  Don't  you  ?  Why  ? "  she  asked,  knowing  what 
the  tone  of  his  answer  would  be. 

"Well,  you're  in  the  race  when  you  go  in  for 
that,"  he  said.  "  Most  of  those  people  are.  But 
I'm  not  —  I've  won." 

Pauline  gave  a  quick  glance  up  at  him. 

"  You  can  really  say  awfully  nice  things  when 
you  want  to,  Eliot,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  it's  easy  enough  when  you  have  the  proper 
person  to  say  them  to,"  replied  the  young  man. 
"  Now,  I  dare  say  Mr.  Brinton  is  getting  equally 
eloquent  with  your  friend,  Miss  Hyde ;  I  saw  him 
starting  for  this  dance  with  her." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ? "  his  fiancee  asked. 
"  Do  you  suppose  —  that  —  " 

"I  don't  pretend  to  know  anything  about  it," 
Frame  replied ;  "  but  I  think  it  was  unfortunate 
for  Ham  King  that  he  got  typhoid  just  when  he 
did." 

"  Do  you  think  she  cared  for  him  ?  "  inquired  the 
girl. 

"That's  just  the  trouble.  I  don't  myself  be- 
lieve she'd  gone  quite  that  far.  I  don't  make  it 
a  practice  to  study  other  people's  love-affairs," 
the  young  man  explained  apologetically,  "  but  I 
was  rather  interested  in  this  game  —  because  I'd 


THE   LODESTAR  309 

had  such  a  fearful  time  getting  you,"  he  said 
with  a  slight  laugh,  "  and  I  admit  I  watched  them 
a  little." 

"What  did  you  think?"  asked  Pauline,  much 
interested. 

"I  think  that  just  as  —  well,  as  things  were 
coming  around  to  a  climax  which  might  have 
turned  out  fortunately  for  King,  he  came  down 
with  the  fever.  And  that  left  the  game  entirely 
in  Mr.  Brinton's  hands,  and  he's  an  awful  hustler 
and  pretty  clever,  you  know." 

"Oh,  he's  fearfully  clever  —  there's  no  doubt  of 
that  at  all,"  the  girl  replied. 

"And  any  girl  would  think  twice  before  she 
discarded  John  S.  Brinton,"  Frame  continued. 
"  Besides  being  clever  he's  got  an  enormous  for- 
tune, and  he's  not  very  old, —  he's  so  lively  you 
wouldn't  suspect  he  was  more  than  thirty-five,  — 
and  he's  a  good  sport  and  open-handed  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  You  know  I  like  John  S.  —  I  like 
him  a  lot." 

"  He's  always  been  very  nice  to  me,"  Pauline 
admitted.  "  But  he's  so  awfully  flamboyant  and 
melodramatic.  Do  you  suppose  Eleanor  Hyde 
would  take  him  ? " 

The  man  shrugged  his  broad  shoulders. 

"We'll  find  out  pretty  soon,"  he  said.     "  Espe- 


310  THE   LODESTAR 

daily  since  I  hear  that  Ham  King's  out  of  danger 
and  getting  better  fast" 

"Is  he?  That's  good,"  the  girl  said.  She 
sincerely  liked  the  agreeable  young  writer. 

"  Yes ;  they  let  him  see  people  now ;  he's  pretty 
weak  yet,  but  he's  coming  along  —  so  Ollie  Burgess 
was  just  telling  me." 

"  I  suppose  we  ought  to  go  in,"  Pauline  remem- 
bered. She  rose  from  the  bench  where  she  had 
been  seated,  and  started  toward  the  house. 

The  evening's  gayety  was  at  its  full  height. 
The  music  flashed  along  the  refrain  of  a  rollick- 
ing two-step,  and  some  of  the  warm  and  weary 
dancers  refreshed  themselves  with  the  frequently 
replenished  contents  of  the  three  huge  punch- 
bowls, while  the  floors  creaked  under  the  rhythmic 
advance  of  the  energetic  remainder.  Miss  Wylie 
was  dancing  with  a  sallow-faced  young  man  who 
was  locally  reputed  for  an  invariable  attempt  on  his 
part  to  do  exactly  the  right  thing  and  an  equally  in- 
variable inability  to  carry  out  the  attempt  He  had 
been  prompted  by  feelings  of  duty  to  ask  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house  to  dance  with  him,  and  he  was 
now  bearing  that  lady  awkwardly  through  the 
rooms,  bumping  almost  blindly  into  the  other 
dancers  and  crashing  and  caroming  against  the 
walls  and  the  palms  and  the  bric-a-brac.  Burgess 


THE  LODESTAR  311 

was  guiding  the  younger  sister  of  the  postmaster 
past  the  danger  zone  of  potted  plants ;  his  partner 
was  a  small,  dark  girl  with  a  snub  nose  and  sharp 
black  eyes,  and  she  danced  violently  and  quite  badly, 
ducking  and  bobbing  irregularly  along  with  great 
vigor.  Her  brother  had  secured  May  Brinton  and 
was  conducting  her  conservatively  down  the  floor. 
The  dominating  spirit  stood  in  the  doorway  and 
viewed  the  lively  ensemble  which  his  hospitality 
had  made  possible.  He  smiled  with  great  self- 
satisfaction  ;  not  one  of  the  earnest  and  perspiring 
dancers  but  was  having  an  evening  long  to  be 
remembered.  All  was  going  merrily  —  the  pendu- 
lum of  joy  was  at  the  top  of  its  swift  stroke.  The 
commander  turned  to  Eleanor  Hyde,  who  was 
standing  behind  him. 

"  Say,  will  you  come  out  on  the  piazza  a  few 
minutes?"  he  said.  "I  want  to  talk  to  you  — 
about  something." 

In  an  oblong  room  with  plain  white  walls  a 
young  man  lay  on  a  brass  bed.  His  face  and 
hands  were  very  thin  and  white,  and  he  was 
propped  into  a  half-sitting  position  by  three  pil- 
lows skilfully  placed  behind  him.  The  room 
was  quite  simply  furnished,  and  the  walls  were 
bare  except  for  a  commonplace  etching  of  Wash- 


312  THE   LODESTAR 

ington  and  a  print  which  represented  a  fat  horse 
drawing  a  canal-boat  along  the  black  water  of  a 
sadly  neglected  canal.  Bottles  of  medicines, 
printed  charts  to  be  filled  out  by  the  attendant, 
and  a  small  clock  stood  upon  a  glass-topped  table. 
In  a  straight-backed  chair  a  young  woman  in  the 
gray  dress  of  a  nurse  was  reading  a  magazine ; 
occasionally  she  glanced  at  her  patient,  who  was 
staring  wearily  out  the  open  window. 

It  was  about  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The 
sun  had  long  since  fallen  behind  the  roof-line  of 
the  conventional  brick  houses  which  edged  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street,  and  the  shadows  were 
commencing  to  deepen.  In  front  of  the  hos- 
pital stood  a  row  of  maple  trees  whose  dusty 
leaves  stirred  slightly  in  the  breath  of  breeze 
that  came  up  from  the  river.  The  nurse  looked 
at  the  young  man. 

"  Would  you  like  me  to  read  aloud  to  you  ? " 
she  asked  in  a  level  voice. 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  Hamilton  King. 

The  yellow  shade  was  pulled  half  down,  and 
the  barely  stirring  maple  branches  made  shifting, 
spotted  black  shadows  on  it.  A  watering-cart 
drove  by,  and  following  it  the  smell  of  warm,  wet 
asphalt  came  up  to  King's  window.  Over  on  the 
thoroughfare  that  ran  north  and  south  rose  the 


THE  LODESTAR  313 

hum  of  thronging  thousands  and  the  dull  roar  of 
vast  traffic  as  the  city  took  its  way  homeward  to 
supper.  The  rattle  of  wagons  and  the  clang  of 
trolley  gongs  came  penetratingly  into  the  side 
street  as  the  various  vehicles  speeding  along  the 
avenue  passed  its  intersection.  On  the  pavement 
before  the  hospital  several  small  boys  were  tossing 
a  ball  with  shrill  cries.  The  young  man  who  lay 
on  the  brass  bed,  propped  up  by  pillows,  was 
very  quiet,  watching  the  light  fade  slowly  out  of 
the  straight  ribbon  of  sky  which  fell  into  the  nar- 
row street.  There  came  a  tap  on  the  door,  and 
the  nurse  laid  aside  her  magazine  and  stepped 
noiselessly  into  the  hall.  Presently  she  reentered. 

"Mr.  Sturtevant  Gregory  Smith  has  called," 
she  said,  reading  the  name  from  a  visiting-card. 
"  I  think  you  might  see  him  if  you  cared  to. 
Would  you  like  to  see  him  ? " 

King  moved  restlessly,  but  his  eyes  did  not 
leave  the  open  window. 

"Yes,"  he  said.  "Ask  him  up,  please."  He 
could  not  imagine  why  Stuffy  should  take  the 
trouble  to  come  and  see  him  —  it  seemed  quite 
unlike  Stuffy  ;  but  perhaps  the  chunky  youth  had 
some  particular  reason  for  calling.  At  any  rate 
his  visitor  was  a  link  between  him  and  Burnham, 
and  during  his  illness  that  chain  of  communication 


314  THE   LODESTAR 

had  been  badly  disarranged.  There  had  come  to 
him  no  word  from  Eleanor  Hyde  (since  the  note 
in  which  she  thanked  him  for  sending  her  the 
book),  which  was  entirely  natural,  and  there  had 
come  to  him  no  word  of  her  —  which  was  almost 
intolerable.  The  Brintons  had  been  very  kind ; 
they  had  filled  his  room  with  roses  and  guava 
jelly  and  numberless  other  luxuries  and  delicacies 
for  which  he  had  no  use  ;  and  twice  the  good- 
natured  capitalist  had  called  in  person  to  inquire 
concerning  King's  progress  toward  recovery ;  but 
it  was  an  unsatisfactory  sort  of  easy  generosity 
which  they  practised,  thought  the  young  novelist. 
Better  one  look  into  Eleanor's  brown  eyes  than  — 
His  thoughts  broke  abruptly. 

"Mr.  Smith,"  announced  the  nurse,  and  the 
yellow-haired  youth  entered,  carrying  his  light 
overcoat  on  his  arm  and  stepping  very  softly, 
although  his  shoes  squeaked  a  little,  which 
made  for  his  vast  chagrin.  King  turned  toward 
him. 

"  Hello,  Stuffy,"  he  said  in  a  rather  weak  voice, 
and  he  put  out  a  thin  hand  which  his  caller  cau- 
tiously took.  "  It's  very  good  in  you  to  come  up 
here." 

The  nurse  set  down  a  small  chair  so  as  to  face 
the  bed,  and  Smith  seated  himself  somewhat  gin- 


THE   LODESTAR  315 

gerly.  He  had  no  specific  purpose  (except  the 
delivery  of  a  bottle  of  Scotch  whiskey  which  he 
thought  the  convalescent  might  fancy)  in  visiting 
King,  but  since  his  rejection  by  Alice  Rawlins  he 
had  formed  a  hazy  high  desire  toward  the  perform- 
ance of  what  he  vaguely  termed  the  right  thing. 
It  dimly  went  through  his  sluggish  mentality  by 
an  irregular  route  of  reasoning  that  it  would  be 
kind  and  perhaps  even  gratifying  to  his  sick  friend 
to  be  visited. 

"I'm  very  glad  to  see  you,"  said  King,  as  gen- 
ially as  his  physical  weakness  allowed.  "  How  is 
everything  ? " 

Smith  fingered  his  hat. 

"  All  right,  I  guess,"  he  replied.  "  I  brought 
you  a  bottle  of  Scotch  that's  supposed  to  be  some- 
thing pretty  good  —  they  tell  me  Scotch  is  a  good 
tonic  for  a  chap  that's  been  laid  up.  How  are  you, 
anyway  ? " 

"  Oh,  I'm  getting  along  fairly  well,"  King  an- 
swered. "And  I'm  very  much  obliged  for  the 
Scotch.  It's  a  little  slow  here  at  times;  I'm 
afraid  I'm  damned  impatient  every  once  in  a 
while.  (Miss  Lynch  doesn't  mind  plain  damns  — 
she's  acclimated.)  Yes,  it's  pretty  slow." 

"  It  must  be,"  said  Stuffy,  sympathetically. 

"  What's  doing  ? "  the  invalid  inquired.     He  had 


316  THE   LODESTAR 

not  yet  fathomed  the  motive  for  the  call.  "  Any- 
thing special  ? " 

"No,  I  guess  not,"  Smith  replied.  He  ran- 
sacked his  memory  for  something  of  interest. 
"You  knew  that  Johnny  Gurney  eloped  with  a 
young  widow  from  Syracuse,  of  course  ? " 

"No,  I  didn't.  What's  she  like?"  asked  the 
novelist. 

"  Don't  know  —  I  never  saw  her.  And  the  Paul 
G.  Whittakers  lost  all  their  money  —  it  turned  out 
that  Mrs.  Whittaker  had  been  speculating  with  it. 
And  Pete  McCook  has  gone  on  the  water-wagon 
for  a  year,"  said  Stuffy,  itemizing  his  stock  of 
recent  gossip. 

"Really?"  said  King,  who  was  more  or  less 
acquainted  with  all  the  people  mentioned  except 
the  Syracuse  widow.  He  shifted  himself  a  trifle 
on  his  pillows.  "  Been  up  to  Burnham  lately  ? " 
he  asked  with  an  affectation  of  unconcern. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  was  at  the  Brintons'  over  Sunday. 
They  asked  me  to  stay  longer.  They're  giving  a 
ball  or  something  to-night  —  a  sort  of  farewell 
blowout,  I  guess;  I  understand  they're  coming 
down  to  town  in  a  few  days." 

There  was  more  talk  of  Burnham. 

"  How  are  they  all  ?  "  the  invalid  questioned. 

"  Fine  and  fit,  I  guess.     The  old  man  was  right 


THE   LODESTAR  317 

up  on  his  toes.  Say,  he's  a  good  sport,  isn't  he  ? 
He  seems  to  be  awfully  keen  on  young  Miss  Hyde ; 
he  hasn't  let  her  out  of  his  sight  for  a  month ; 
something  doing  there,  I  guess,"  said  Stuffy, 
knowingly. 

King  sat  up  in  bed  with  quickened  interest ;  his 
frame  stiffened. 

"  What's  that  ? "  he  said  sharply. 

His  visitor  blundered  on. 

"They  say  it's  all  fixed  up  —  John  S.  and  the 
good-looking  Hyde  girl,"  he  continued. 

King  knew  that  his  visitor  was  incapable  of 
forming  a  theory  of  his  own. 

"  Who  says  so  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know ;  everybody,  I  guess,"  replied 
Smith,  easily.  "Mr.  Brinton  is  around  with  her 
all  the  time." 

"That  doesn't  prove  anything,"  the  invalid  re- 
torted quickly. 

"  Oh,  no,  it  doesn't  prove  anything,"  Stuffy  con- 
ceded with  a  laugh.  "  But  it  would  be  a  pretty 
unusual  girl  that  would  throw  down  John  S.  Brin- 
ton, now  wouldn't  it  ? " 

King  reflected  a  moment. 

"Yes.  It  would  be  an  unusual  girl,"  he  said 
quietly.  He  looked  over  toward  the  blank-white 
wall  beside  his  bed.  "  Say,  Stuffy,  I  guess  I'm 


3l8  THE   LODESTAR 

awfully  weak  yet  —  I'm  afraid  I'd  better  not  talk 
any  more  to-day  —  you  understand,"  he  said  apolo- 
getically, speaking  toward  the  wall. 

His  visitor  hastily  got  up. 

"  Say,  I'm  awfully  sorry.  I  didn't  mean  to  stay 
so  long.  I'm  afraid  I  tired  you  out,"  he  said  with 
real  self-reproach. 

"  Not  at  all.  I'm  just  weak,  that's  all.  Thanks 
for  the  Scotch.  Good-by,"  said  the  invalid. 

"  Good-by,"  said  the  yellow-haired  young  man, 
and  he  went  softly  out,  while  the  nurse  followed 
him.  It  had  never  occurred  to  him  for  a  moment 
that  King's  friendship  with  Eleanor  Hyde  had  been 
more  than  a  superficial  and  casual  one. 

The  novelist  lay  back  on  his'  pillows,  looking 
steadily  out  the  single  window.  The  September 
twilight  had  come,  and  the  electric  lights  were 
commencing  to  shine  clear  in  the  darkening  street. 
In  his  room  the  dusk  was  softening  the  white  walls 
to  a  dull  gray. 

Mr.  Brinton  and  Eleanor  Hyde !  King's  eyes, 
staring  indefinitely  toward  the  waning  light, 
grew  a  little  dim.  "  It  would  be  an  unusual  girl 
that  would  throw  down  John  S.  Brinton,"  Smith 
had  said.  Yes,  that  was  undeniable.  But  he, 
Hamilton  King,  was  not  in  the  habit  of  falling 
in  love  with  usual  and  commonplace  young  women, 


THE   LODESTAR  319 

squandering  his  heart  upon  mediocrities.  And  he 
was  very  deeply  in  love  with  Eleanor  —  there  was 
no  doubt  of  that.  He  had  fallen  in  love  with  her 
at  the  very  moment  when  he  and  Oliver  Burgess 
had  driven  the  yellow  horse  over  the  little  bridge 
and  up  through  the  orchard  walls  into  the  Hyde 
place,  and  they  had  come  upon  her  as  she  sat  all 
dressed  in  white  on  the  steps  of  the  old  farm-house, 
with  apple  blossoms  in  her  smooth  hair.  He  had 
marked  then  with  an  odd  thrill  her  grace  and 
prettiness  and  girlish  dignity  and  charm,  and  the 
wonderful  eyes  that  seemed  to  change  their  color 
with  her  mood,  and  were  now  light,  dancing  over 
laughing  shallows  of  fife,  and  were  now  cool,  dark 
depths  of  unfathomable  soul.  -John  S.  Brinton  and 
Eleanor!  The  thought  struck  a  sharper  pang 
through  King's  wasted  body  than  the  fever  which 
had  almost  dealt  him  death  had  been  able  to  do. 
The  fever !  It  came  back  to  his  mind  that  after 
all,  in  having  spared  him,  death  had  not  been  over- 
kind.  He  glanced  almost  resentfully  at  his  thin 
hands  folded  on  the  white  sheet.  He  weighed 
over  the  fact  that  doubtless  he  was  steadily  gain- 
ing strength ;  he  would  yet  live  out  a  full  round 
of  empty  years.  But  without  Eleanor  ?  Yes ;  he 
could  even  live  without  her,  but  without  her  he 
knew  that  it  was  a  matter  of  absolute  unconcern, 


320  THE   LODESTAR 

—  a  matter  of  total  indifference  to  him  whether 
he  lived  or  whether  he  died.  He  was  far  more 
afraid  of  life  than  of  death.  He  felt  weak,  weary, 
lonely. 

The  silent  room  steadily  darkened.  King  tried 
bravely  to  turn  his  thoughts  away  from  Eleanor ; 
the  pang  of  having  lost  her  cut  him  like  a  knife ; 
he  had  no  martyr's  liking  for  self-castigation ;  he 
was  of  men  a  man,  and  every  recollection  of  her 
eyes,  the  caress  of  her  soft  voice,  the  grace  of  her 
ways,  struck  a  bitter  shaft  through  his  heart.  With 
an  effort  he  shifted  his  mind  to  his  book ;  Harmony 
Dale  had  been  successful  beyond  expectation— 
but  Harmony  Dale  was  Eleanor.  He  had  built  up 
Harmony  for  other  men  to  love  as  he  himself  loved 
Eleanor ;  and  now  his  castles  came  crumbling  down 
at  his  feet. 

For  a  long  time  he  lay  looking  out  into  the  dark- 
ness with  a  curious  feeling  of  the  most  utterly 
miserable  helplessness  he  had  ever  known.  The 
gently  swaying  branches  of  the  maple  trees  were 
still  making  black,  spotted,  quivering  shadows  on 
the  yellow  curtain,  and  the  warm  evening  breeze 
came  in  the  open  window.  The  street  was  now 
quite  silent,  and  the  footfalls  of  the  occasional 
passers-by  sounded  sharply  on  the  flag  sidewalks. 
The  white-walled  room  was  quite  dark. 


THE   LODESTAR  321 

Presently  Miss  Lynch,  the  gray-dressed  nurse, 
opened  the  door  and  softly  entered.  The  thread 
of  King's  thoughts  broke ;  with  just  the  ghost  of 
a  sigh  he  closed  his  tired  eyes. 


XV 


VIRGIL  employs  some  lively  metaphors  illustra- 
tive of  the  speed  with  which  false  rumor  spreads 
abroad,  and  his  conclusions  are  in  the  main  cor- 
rect. Certainly  what  he  stated  then  is  equally 
true  now,  for  modern  gossip  circulates  more 
swiftly  than  the  average  cyclone,  and  often  in- 
volves a  more  dangerous  and  destructive  force. 
When  Stuffy  Smith  told  King  that  every  one 
expected  that  Mr.  Brinton  would  marry  Eleanor 
Hyde,  he  exaggerated  only  slightly.  The  world 
is  quick  to  construe  the  attentions  of  a  rich 
widower  to  a  pretty  girl  as  possessing  the  strong 
probability  of  a  matrimonial  termination,  and  it 
assumes  the  readiness  of  the  girl  —  especially  be 
she  penniless,  when  the  readiness  is  magnified 
into  an  eagerness  —  to  enter  willingly  into  the 
arrangement.  Infrequently  the  assumption  is 
incorrect. 

In  the  city  house  of  Mr.  Brinton  the  capitalist 
and  his  daughter  had  just  finished  dinner,  and 
coffee  was  being  served  to  them  in  the  library,  a 
322 


THE   LODESTAR  323 

room  which  the  commander  had  caused  to  be 
stocked  —  literally  stocked  —  under  the  direction 
of  an  impecunious  essayist,  who  had  begun  his 
career  with  lofty  ideals  and  practised  art  for  art's 
sake,  and  who  in  consequence  was  financially  a 
total  failure  and  brought  to  practising  strict 
economy  for  his  own  sake,  a  result  commonly 
incidental  to  following  correct  but  unpopular 
literary  lines.  A  profitless  fidelity  to  his  ideals 
had  reduced  Mr.  Hooker  to  the  wearing  of  shiny 
clothes  and  of  derby  hats  in  which  the  original 
black  had  commenced  to  turn  a  sad,  sickly  green ; 
and  when  Mr.  Brinton  had  hired  him  to  select  and 
purchase  regardless  of  cost  the  books  needful  to 
make  up  a  first-rate  gentleman's  library,  he  had 
accepted  the  position  with  an  avidity  born  of  an 
approach  to  destitution,  and  had  done  his  work 
conscientiously  and  well. 

Mr.  Brinton  stretched  himself  out  in  a  leather 
chair  and  blew  a  cloud  of  cigar  smoke  out  in  front 
of  him. 

"  May,  do  you  want  anything  ? "  he  asked 
suddenly. 

His  daughter  was  somewhat  surprised  by  this 
abrupt  question.  She  wanted  something,  to  be 
sure,  but  there  was  not  anything  she  wanted 
which  he  was  able  to  give  her. 


324  THE   LODESTAR 

"  I  don't  know.     Why  ? "  she  said  slowly. 

"  I  made  half  a  million  dollars  last  week  on  a 
big  turn  in  wheat,"  said  the  commander,  "  and  I 
thought  that  if  you'd  seen  anything  lately  that 
had  taken  your  eye,  —  a  necklace  or  a  picture  or 
a  house,  or  anything  of  that  sort,  I'd  get  it  and 
give  it  to  you.  If  you  see  anything  you  want,  buy 
it  and  charge  it  to  me." 

May  shook  her  head. 

"  No.  I  don't  know  of  any  picture  I'd  like," 
she  replied  thoughtfully;  "and  I've  got  all  the 
necklaces  I  want,  —  four  or  five  are  in  the  safe- 
deposit  vaults  now,  —  and  I  can't  think  of  any 
house  that's  especially  attractive  —  unless  it's  the 
one  at  Burnham." 

The  dominating  spirit  looked  uneasily  away. 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  care  much  for  that ! "  he  said  with 
manufactured  deprecation.  "  Miserable  little  closet 
for  a  wine-cellar.  Not  nearly  enough  bath-rooms. 
Wretched  train  service.  Whole  thing  very  badly 
arranged." 

"  But  I  liked  it.  And  it's  a  nice  town,"  May 
argued. 

"  Oh,  so-so,"  said  the  capitalist,  carelessly. 
"It'll  do."  He  knocked  the  ashes  off  his  cigar. 

"  By  the  way,  did  you  tell  the  people  who  own 
it  to  save  it  for  us  next  year,  before  they  rented  it 


THE  LODESTAR  325 

to  any  one  else  ?  —  did  you  get  —  what  is  it  called 
—  an  option  on  it  ?  "  the  girl  inquired. 

"  Why,  no,"  her  father  answered.  He  hesitated 
for  his  explanation  of  this  omission.  "  I  didn't 
think  it  worth  while  —  I  hardly  think  we'll  be 
going  back  to  Burnham  again." 

"Why,  I  thought  it  was  awfully  nice.  And  I 
thought  you  did,  too.  Didn't  you  ? "  replied  his 
daughter,  with  some  surprise. 

The  plutocrat  smiled  a  little  grimly. 

"Well,  I  got  a  trifle  tired  of  it  toward  the 
end;  there  were  some  features  about  it  that  I 
didn't  like,"  he  said  with  more  than  ordinary 
caution. 

It  came  quickly  into  May's  mind  that  her  father 
must  have  gone  farther  upon  the  quest  of  Eleanor 
than  she  had  suspected,  and  that  she  had  not  been 
aware  of  all  that  had  passed.  At  the  thought  she 
was  fired  with  sudden  annoyance.  She  was  angry 
with  herself  for  having  commended  the  fruitless 
pursuit  which  she  now  felt  sure  must  have  ended 
in  her  father's  positive  discomfiture  —  angry  with 
Mr.  Brinton  for  having  allowed  himself  to  be  so 
easily  led  into  such  a  position  —  angry  with  inno- 
cent Eleanor  for  having  hurt  her  pride  badly  as 
well  as  having  blocked  the  far-laid  and  ingenious 
plan  which  was  to  turn  Hamilton  King  to  her. 


326  THE   LODESTAR 

"  What  did  you  object  to,  for  instance  ? "  asked 
May,  bluntly. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  was  the  capitalist's  vague 
reply. 

The  girl  sat  reflecting,  while  her  father  silently 
smoked.  She  was  now  convinced  that  she  had 
come  to  the  end  of  her  wretched  little  intrigue;  her 
plans  had  gone  very  badly,  and  she  was  well  pun- 
ished for  having  wrought  them.  She  had  thought 
to  set  Eleanor  out  of  her  path  by  marrying  her  to 
Mr.  Brinton,  and  so  draw  Hamilton  King  to  her- 
self; it  had  fallen  out  that  against  her  expecta- 
tions Eleanor  had  probably  set  Mr.  Brinton  aside, 
and  that  the  .novelist's  position  was,  so  far  as  she 
could  know,  wholly  unchanged.  She  had  totally 
failed  in  her  every  object. 

"  I  stopped  in  to  see  Ham  King  this  afternoon," 
said  her  father,  casually.  "  He  sent  word  that  he 
wasn't  feeling  very  strong,  and  asked  to  be  ex- 
cused." 

May's  bitterness  increased.  King's  refusal  to 
receive  her  father  she  took  as  a  personal  slight 
King  was  the  victor;  surely  he  might  be  a  mag- 
nanimous one.  Doubtless  he  would  go,  as  soon  as 
his  strength  returned,  to  Burnham,  and  then  the 
little  day-dream,  to  which  she  had  all  summer 
hopelessly  clung,  would  be  finally  broken  as  soon 


THE   LODESTAR  327 

as  he  should  meet  the  other  girl.  For  this  reason 
her  father's  next  words  fell  on  her  ear  with  an 
uncommon  shock. 

"  I  hear  King's  expecting  to  leave  for  Japan  or 
India,  or  somewhere  around  the  world,  as  soon  as 
he's  strong  enough  to  travel,"  the  capitalist  re- 
marked. 

The  girl  was  genuinely  startled.  King  on 
the  point  of  going  away !  —  going  away  as  if  he 
had  lost!  Could  it  be  that  she  had  been  wrong 
throughout,  and  that  he  had  not  cared  for  Eleanor? 
Her  intuition,  her  jealousy,  which  rang  perfectly 
true,  discarded  this  theory  in  an  instant.  Then 
could  it  be  that  the  New  England  girl  had  put  an 
end  to  King's  chances  by  accepting  Mr.  Brinton  ? 
Never  —  May  knew  her  father  too  well  to  consider 
this  even  plausible;  the  commander  would  have 
been  treading  the  high  heavens  in  the  momentary 
delight  of  such  an  achievement,  whereas  he  was 
now  proceeding  very  demurely  along  the  lower 
level  places.  She  very  strongly  suspected  that  he 
had  been  flatly  rejected;  she  was  absolutely  cer- 
tain that  he  had  not  been  accepted. 

"  He's  going  away  ? "  she  said  blankly,  but  there 
was  more  of  surprise  than  of  regret  in  her  voice. 

King  sat  at  a  table  next  one  of  the  west  win- 


328  THE  LODESTAR 

dows  which  give  on  Fifth  Avenue.  It  was  about 
two  in  the  afternoon,  and  he  had  just  finished 
lunch.  The  restaurant  was  almost  emptied  of  the 
gay  throng  of  women,  who  had  started  in  hansoms 
and  coup6s  for  the  theatres.  Outside,  a  cold, 
wet,  gusty  rain  was  rapidly  falling.  Through 
the  blurred  window  beside  him  he  could  see  cabs 
and  carriages  splashing  up  and  down.  There  were 
very  few  wayfarers,  and  those  few  hurried  along 
under  slanted  umbrellas,  their  coat  collars  turned 
up.  The  big  policeman  on  the  crossing  huddled 
himself  inside  his  heavy  waterproof.  The  rain 
beat  icily  up  against  the  window,  rattling  against 
the  glass. 

King  rose  rather  reluctantly.  He  was  to  leave 
that  evening  for  Chicago,  and  it  was  necessary 
that  he  go  about  town  making  purchases  and 
afterwards  return  to  his  apartment  to  direct  Grif- 
fiths in  packing  his  effects  for  the  long  journey. 
He  went  slowly  down  the  room,  buttoning  his 
mackintosh  about  his  throat.  Toward  the  end  of 
the  restaurant  he  saw  a  familiar  group ;  May 
Brinton  was  just  leaving  a  round  table  where  she 
had  been  taking  lunch  with  three  other  girls 
whom  he  knew  slightly.  He  stopped. 

"How  do  you  do?"  he  said,  putting  out  his 
hand. 


THE   LODESTAR  329 

May  shook  hands  with  him  a  little  eagerly. 
The  other  girls  walked  out,  leaving  her  alone 
with  him. 

"  I  just  wrote  you  a  note  —  thanking  you  for  all 
you  and  your  father  did  for  me  while  I  was  ill,"  he 
said  politely.  He  had  not  meant  his  words  to 
carry  a  second  significance,  but  the  blood  came 
into  Miss  Brinton's  face  when  she  thought  guiltily 
of  what  she  had  tried  to  do. 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  anything,"  she  answered  —  truth- 
fully. "What  is  this  I  hear  about  your  going 
away  from  us  ? "  she  said. 

"I'm  starting  for  India.  I  leave  for  Chicago 
to-night.  I'm  just  off  to  pack  up." 

"  India  ?  What  are  you  going  to  do  in  India  ? 
Are  you  getting  material  for  a  story  there  ? "  the 
girl  asked. 

"  No.  I'm  very  tired  of  things  here.  I  don't 
believe  I  shall  write  any  more  stories  —  for  a 
while,  at  least.  I'm  just  going  to  India  because 
it's  about  as  far  off  as  one  can  conveniently  get. 
I  fancy  I  shall  do  a  good  deal  of  shooting  when 
my  nerves  brace  up  a  bit  —  elephants  and  snipe 
and  rabbits  and  tigers  and  lions  and  terrapin  and 
boa-constrictors,"  said  the  novelist,  calling  off  the 
list  rapidly,  with  a  touch  of  his  old  playful  humor. 

Miss  Brinton  laughed. 


330  THE  LODESTAR 

"You  don't  shoot  boa-constrictors,"  she  said. 
"  It's  considered  extremely  unsportsmanlike  — 
like  dynamiting  tarpon.  I  forget  just  how  you 
do  get  them,  but  I  think  that  you  either  lasso 
them  or  fascinate  them." 

"Very  likely  you're  right.  But  I  can't  throw 
a  lasso,  and  when  it  comes  to  fascination,  I'm 
much  better  as  a  shot,"  said  King,  gravely.  He 
paused.  "  I'd  meant  to  come  and  call  on  you  all 
before  I  went  away,"  he  continued ;  "  but  I've  been 
awfully  busy,  and  I  can't  do  very  much  —  I'm 
pretty  shaky  yet.  I  couldn't  see  your  father 
when  he  very  kindly  came  to  see  how  I  was 
getting  on,  the  other  day  —  I  felt  too  weak  then." 

"  I'm  very  sorry,"  said  the  girl,  sympathetically. 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right  now,"  the  novelist  assured 
her.  "  I  wonder  whether  Mr.  Brinton  wished  to 
see  me  about  —  to  tell  me  anything  especial,"  he 
hazarded. 

"  Why,  no ;  I  don't  believe  so,"  May  answered. 
"  I  think  he  just  called  to  see  how  you  were 
doing." 

"Well,  it  was  very  kind  in  him,"  said  King. 
He  hesitated.  "By  the  way,"  he  said,  with  a 
pitiful  attempt  at  off-handedness,  looking  down 
at  the  pattern  of  the  carpet,  "  I  hear  your  father  is 
to  be  congratulated  pretty  soon." 


THE   LODESTAR  331 

The  girl  caught  her  nerves  with  a  jerk.  For 
the  first  time  she  saw  his  whole  error  with  clear 
eyes.  Evidently  there  had  been  a  false  rumor 
firmly  lodged  in  King's  belief,  a  misinterpreta- 
tion of  what  to  May  were  patent  facts,  a  complete 
misunderstanding  of  what  had  transpired.  He 
thought  —  he  was  convinced  that  Mr.  Brinton 
was  going  to  marry  Eleanor,  and  May  now  per- 
ceived that  this  was  the  reason  why  he  was  going 
to  India  and  trying  to  get  as  far  away  as  he  pos- 
sibly could  from  all  the  old  scenes  and  the  people 
and  the  life  he  had  known. 

The  first  thing  that  flashed  across  May's  mind 
was  the  selfish  question  of  whether  she  could 
profit  by  his  misunderstanding.  Her  spirits  leaped 
shamefully  up  at  the  thought,  but  they  abruptly 
fell  again.  To  be  sure  she  could  send  him  away 
to  India  with  a  mere  word  of  acquiescence,  and 
as  King  was  not  a  man  who  indulged  in  the  dis- 
cussion of  his  personal  affairs,  no  one  would  ever 
know  what  part  she  had  played  in  sending  him 
on.  But  it  came  to  her  that  there  could  be  no 
advantage  to  her  in  such  a  step  ;  the  man  who 
was  standing  before  her  was  not  a  man  who 
lightly  tossed  out  his  heart  as  a  plaything  for  two 
girls  to  battle  over ;  he  had  given  it  once  and  for 
all  to  Eleanor,  and  for  him  it  was  the  one  girl  or 


332  THE  LODESTAR 

no  girl  forever.  He  was  no  wavering  mariner; 
he  had  taken  his  course  from  a  single  lodestar, 
by  which  he  had  steered  from  the  first  day  he 
had  seen  it  in  his  heavens  —  the  lodestar  that  had 
shone  for  him  and  would  always  shine.  But  even 
in  that  brief  second  while  he  stood  there,  May 
knew  that  she  held  his  fate  in  her  hand.  All  had 
been  deceived  but  her.  If  she  spoke,  he  would 
know  the  truth,  and  if  she  remained  silent,  he 
would  go  to  India  and  leave  his  hope  of  happi- 
ness behind  him.  She  met  his  eyes  fairly  —  it 
was  an  effort. 

"  Papa  to  be  congratulated,  you  say  ? "  she 
repeated.  "Why,  what  for?" 

The  words  stuck  in  King's  throat ;  the  thought, 
for  the  first  time  put  into  words,  seared  his  raw 
wound. 

"  I  heard  —  he  was  to  marry  —  Miss  Hyde,"  he 
said  in  a  queer,  constrained  voice. 

The  girl  looked  down  for  a  moment  in  silence ; 
then  she  did  a  very  generous  thing  —  one  really 
fine  thing  which  redeemed  a  part  of  many  small, 
unright  things  she  knew  she  ought  not  to  have 
done. 

"  Then  you  have  heard  what  is  not  true,"  she 
said  quietly,  for  all  her  words  cost  her  a  pang. 
"  I  should  know,  I  believe,  if  he  were  going  to 


THE   LODESTAR  333 

marry  Miss  Hyde.  He  is  not  so  fortunate.  I 
must  go  now  —  good-by." 

She  shook  hands  with  him  and  joined  her  friends 
who  were  waiting  impatiently  for  her.  She  had 
said  nothing  to  wish  him  a  pleasant  voyage ;  she 
deemed  that  such  a  word  would  be  superfluous. 

King  stood  by  the  blurred,  wet  window  where 
she  had  left  him,  staring  out  on  the  avenue.  Gusts 
of  icy  rain  were  beating  down  it.  A  big  motor- 
car slashed  heavily  around  the  corner.  A  messen- 
ger boy  passed  down  the  sidewalk,  bearing  a 
package  under  his  waterproof  cape.  The  street 
was  almost  swept  clear  of  pedestrians. 

The  novelist  saw  none  of  these  things — his 
eyes  went  beyond  the  storm.  He  slowly  took  a 
small  envelope  from  his  pocket,  and  out  of  the  en- 
velope drew  a  green  ticket  —  a  ticket  to  Chicago  on 
that  evening's  limited  train.  He  looked  at  it  rather 
curiously ;  with  an  odd  smile  he  deliberately  tore 
it  into  very  small  pieces. 

The  mellow  sunshine  of  the  Indian  summer  was 
giving  the  Connecticut  hills  a  golden  good-by.  It 
touched  lovingly  the  blazing  sumac  bushes  in  the 
swamps  and  the  goldenrod  and  yellow  and  purple 
asters  by  the  roadside  and  the  deep-hued  blue 
gentians  on  the  lower  meadows.  All  the  stone 


334  THE  LODESTAR 

walls  and  fences  about  Burnham  were  hung  with 
silky  clematis  or  flaring  strands  of  blackberry 
vines  and  creepers.  The  maple  trees  were  crim- 
son, and  the  oaks  and  mountain  ashes  and  hick- 
ories and  their  fellows  had  felt  the  call  of  the 
year.  The  groundwork  of  the  hills  was  turning 
a  little  brown ;  the  branches  of  trees  and  bushes 
hung  almost  motionless  in  the  sunshine. 

Along  the  road  from  Burnham  to  Perkins  Mills 
a  young-  man  in  a  ramshackle  buggy  drove  a  re- 
luctant yellow  horse  that  barely  responded  to  the 
impatient  flecks  of  the  whip  upon  its  leathery 
sides.  The  young  man  was  rather  thin,  and  his 
face  showed  traces  of  a  recent  illness,  but  his  eyes 
were  quite  bright. 

At  Darius  Hyde's  place,  where  the  road  curves 
to  the  right  and  carries  up  the  hill,  he  turned  in 
through  the  gap  in  the  stone  wall  that  ran  down  to 
the  road.  He  went  over  the  wooden  bridge  that 
spanned  the  little  brook,  now  almost  choked  with 
fallen  leaves,  red  and  yellow  and  brown ;  he  went 
on  through  the  orchard  and  reached  the  foot  of  the 
rise  that  led  up  to  the  old  white  farm-house  with 
green  blinds,  that  clung  against  the  shoulder  of 
the  hill.  There  he  saw  something  which  made 
him  catch  his  breath  with  a  queer  feeling  in  his 
throat  and  a  beating  heart.  On  the  steps  before 


THE   LODESTAR  335 

the  old  house  sat  a  girl  all  dressed  in  brown  with 
the  sunlight  on  her  smooth  brown  hair.  She  sat 
resting  her  face  in  her  hands,  looking  down  the 
road,  looking  just  a  little  wistfully  with  long-lashed, 
soft  brown  eyes  that  seemed  to  catch  the  warm 
full  sunshine  in  them.  When  she  saw  the  man  in 
the  ramshackle  buggy  who  urged  the  yellow  horse 
slowly  up  the  hill,  the  wistfulness  went  out  of  her 
eyes  and  a  new  light  came  into  them,  —  a  light 
more  to  be  sought  than  the  autumn  sunshine. 

At  the  top  of  the  hill  King  got  out  of  the  ram- 
shackle buggy,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  Eleanor 
met  him. 


THE  COMMON  LOT 

By  ROBERT  HERRICK 

Author  of  "  The  Real  World,"  "  The  Web  of  Life,"  "  The  Gospel  of  Freedom,"  etc. 
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first-rate  story  .  .  .  sincere  to  the  very  core  in  its  matter  and  in  its  art." 

—  HAMILTON  W.  MABIE. 

"  The  book  is  a  bit  of  the  living  America  of  to-day,  a  true  picture  of  one  of  its  most 
significant  phases  .  .  .  living,  throbbing  with  reality."  —  N.Y.  Evening  Mail. 

"  Novels  of  its  style  and  quality  are  few  and  far  between  ...  he  tells  a  story  that 
is  worth  the  telling  ...  it  is  a  study  of  life  as  he  sees  it,  and  as  thousands  of  his 
readers  try  to  avoid  seeing  it."  —  Boston  Transcript. 


WHOSOEVER  SHALL  OFFEND 

By  F.  MARION  CRAWFORD 

Author  of"  The  Heart  of  Rome,"  "  Marietta,"  "  Saracinesca,"  etc.,  etc. 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  HORACE  T.  CARPENTER 

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and  sensitive,  so  entirely  and  consistently  human,  so  urgent  and  compelling  in  its 
appeal  to  sustained,  sympathetic  interest.  — Philadelphia  North  American. 

"  She  is  the  most  womanly  woman  Mr.  Crawford  has  given  us  in  many  a  day,  and 
after  her  another  peasant,  bloody,  brooding  Ercole,  is  most  alive." 

—  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 


THE  CROSSING 

By  WmSTOW  CHURCHILL 

Author  of"  The  Crisis,"  "  Richard  Carvel,"  "  The  Celebrity,"  etc. 

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-  The  Dial. 

"Mr.  Churchill's  romance  fills  in  a  gap  which  history  has  been  unable  to  span, 
that  gives  life  and  color,  even  the  very  soul,  to  events  which  otherwise  treated  would 
be  cold  and  dark  and  inanimate." 

—  Mr.  HORACE  R.  HUDSON  in  the  San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

" '  The  Crossing'  is  the  most  engrossing  tale  which  the  present  season  has  brought 
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he  finishes  it."  —  The  Cleveland  Leader. 


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THE  SEA-WOLF 

By  JACK  LONDON 

Author  of  "  The  Call  of  the  Wild,"  "  The  Faith  of  Men,"  "  The  Children  of  the 
Frost,"  etc. 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  W.  J.  AYLWARD 
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has  the  pure  Stevensonian  ring,  the  adventurous  glamour,  the  vertebrate  stoicism. 
"Tis  surely  the  story  of  the  making  of  a  man,  the  sculptor  being  Captain  Larsen,  and 
the  clay,  the  ease-loving,  well-to-do,  half-drowned  man,  to  all  appearances  his  helpless 
prey."  —  Critic. 

"  Jack  London  is  one  of  the  surprises  of  the  literary  world,  haying  within  the  short 
space  of  five  years  placed  himself  among  the  foremost  of  American  novelists.  His 
recent  book.  *  The  Call  of  the  Wild,'  is  one  of  the  most  sought  books  of  the  day  and 
has  established  for  him  a  place  in  the  ranks  of  American  novelists  that  is  unques- 
tioned." —  Detroit  Tribune, 


The  Queen's  Quair,  or  The  Six  Years'  Tragedy 

By  MAURICE  HEWLETT 

Author  of  "  Richard  Yea-and-Nay,"  "  The  Forest  Lovers,"  "  New  Canterhury  Talet," 
•'  Little  Novels  of  Italy,"  etc. 

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"  Mr.  Hewlett  has  produced  in  this  book  an  enthralling  work.  It  is  at  once  a 
chronicle  of  certain  momentous  years  in  the  life  of  his  famous  heroine  and  a  search- 
ing study  of  her  character.  .  .  .  'The  Queen's  Quair' is  profoundly  absorbing,  and 
no  one  among  the  novelists  of  to-day  save  Mr.  Hewlett  could  have  written  it.  No  one 
else  could  have  sustained  such  a  long  narrative  on  so  high  a  level  with  such  consum- 
mate art."  —  New  York  Tribune. 

"  No  piece  of  historical  fiction  has  so  adequately  described  the  career  of  the  unfor- 
tunate and  misguided  Queen  of  Scotland,  and  no  other  writer  has  approached  Mr.  Hew- 
lett in  dramatic  power  and  literary  skill.  He  uses  words  that  express  his  meaning 
precisely.  .  .  .  His  conciseness  of  forcible  expression  is  indeed  admirable.  The 
story,  too,  is  full  of  action  and  commands  undivided  attention.  Mary's  portrait  leaves 
a  lasting  impression."  —  Boston  Budget. 


THE  QUEST  OF  JOHN  CHAPMAN 

THE  STORY  OF  A  FORGOTTEN  HERO 

By  NEWELL  DWIGHT  HILLIS,  D.D. 
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"  I  can  recall  nothing  comparable  with  it  in  fiction.  ...  It  is  above  all,  what  the 
lover  of  fiction  most  desires,  an  excellent  story,  vital  and  moving,  which  carries  us 
with  it  in  sympathy  and  admiration  from  first  to  last." 

Professor  W.  J.  DAWSON,  author  of  "  Makers  of  Modern  Fiction." 


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THE  TWO  CAPTAINS 

A  STORY  OF  BONAPARTE  AND  NELSON 

By  CYRUS  TOWWSEND  BRADY 

Author  of  "  A  Little  Traitor  to  the  South,"  etc.,  etc. 

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The  action  takes  place  in  the  years  1793  and  1798.  The  historic  incidents  centre 
around  the  siege  of  Toulon  in  Southern  France  in  1793,  in  which  General  Bonaparte 
first  attracts  the  attention  of  the  world  to  his  genius;  and  the  epoch-marking  Battle 
of  the  Nile  in  the  Bay  of  Aboukir,  in  Egypt,  in  1798,  in  which  Admiral  Nelson  forever 
shatters  the  Frenchman's  dream  of  empire  in 'the  East.  The  story  revolves  around 
the  love  of  Captain  Robert  Macartney,  an  Irishman  who  is  an  officer  in  the  English 
Navy  under  Nelson,  and  Louise  de  Vaud^mont,  granddaughter  of  Vice-Admiral  de 
Vaud^mpnt,  a  great  Royalist  noble  and  officer  of  the  old  Navy  of  France  before  the 
Revolution.  One  of  the  leading  characters  is  Bre"boeuf,  a  silent  Breton  sailor  —  he 
does  not  speak  a  dozen  words  in  the  whole  story  —  who  interferes  at  critical  points  to 
promote  the  welfare  of  the  young  lovers  in  most  striking  and  unconventional  ways. 
The  coast  of  Provence,  the  land  of  the  minstrel  and  the  troubadour,  the  city  of  Toulon, 
grim-walled,  cannon-circled,  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  the  great  ships-of- 
the-line,  the  sandy  shores  of  Egypt,  the  ancient  city  of  Alexandria,  the  palace  of  the 
Khedive,  the  Bay  of  Aboukir,  are  the  successive  settings  of  the  dramatic  story.  Gen- 
eral Bonaparte  and  Admiral  Nelson  both  take  prominent  parts  in  the  romance,  and  the 
characters  of  these  fascinating  men  are  described  with  fidelity,  accuracy,  and  brilliancy, 


THE  SECRET  WOMAN 

By  EDEN  PHILLPOTTS 

Author  of"  The  American  Prisoner,"  "  My  Devon  Year,"  etc. 
Cloth  I2mo  $1.50 

Rude  and  romantic  characters,  descriptions  oflonely  and  picturesque  Devonshire 
scenery,  and  a  simple  plot  in  which  love  and  passion  play  strong  parts,  are  part  of  the 
secret  of  Mr.  Eden  Phillpotts'  very  strong  hold  on  the  public.  Slow-acting  and  slow- 
speaking  but  deep-feeling  peasants  play  their  parts  in  each  drama  amid  a  characteris- 
tically wild  but  sympathetic  environment.  The  present  powerful  story  shows  the 
author  at  his  best.  The  real  tragedy  is  not  in  the  actual  murder  and  in  the  shadow 
of  the  gallows,  but  in  the  moral  situation  and  the  intense,  engrossing  moral  struggle. 
Despite  certain  faults,  each  character  in  the  story  is  of  high  mind  and  purpose,  unself- 
ish and  deserving  of  respect.  What  might  else  be  a  gloomy  theme  is  relieved  by  the 
minor  characters.  The  talk  of  the  Devonshire  rustics  is  amusing,  and  every  minor 
figure  in  the  book  is  a  distinct,  true-to-nature  character.  The  descriptions  of  external 
nature  are  done  with  feeling  and  knowledge;  in  this  field  no  other  living  romancer 
equals  Mr.  Phillpotts.  This  work  has  some  of  the  great  qualities  of  serious  literature 
—  single  in  purpose,  deep  in  study  of  motive  and  passion. 


THE  WOMAN  ERRANT 

By  the  author  of  "  The  Garden  of  a  Commuter's  Wife,"  "  The  People  of  the 
Whirlpool,"  etc. 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  WILL  GREF± 
Cloth  i2mo  $1.50 

"  This  clear-visioned  writer,  calmly  surveying  life  from  the  wholesome  vantage 
ground  of  a  modest,  contented  suburban  home,  is  not  merely  entertaining  each  year 
a  growing  number  of  appreciative  readers,  but  she  is  inculcating  in  her  own  incisive 
way  much  of  that  same  wise  and  simple  philosophy  of  life  that  forms  the  enduring 
charm  of  the  essays  of  Charles  Wagner."  —  New  York  Globe. 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY,  64-66  Pifth  Ave,,  New  York 


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